Mass Effect: Pieces
by Chemiclord
Summary: 100 years after Shepard destroyed the Mass Relays, one colony world spared the worst of the conflict finally attempts to reach out and reconnect with the galaxy at large. But nothing is ever all that simple...
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Unlike most fanfictions for ME3, I'm actually going to try and work with the ending provided, rather than rewrite it. It's a challenge, because like most, I wasn't terribly fond of how the trilogy ended... although not for the reasons most do._

_The start of the story doesn't actually happen in game; think of it as a side-quest that Bioware hasn't written a DLC for. (Don't worry, I won't charge you $10.)_

_This story does make some assumptions that other players of the game may not have done. It assumes a full Paragon Shepard that survived the Crucible and destroyed the Reapers, so take that into account._

_Hopefully, I can make this story work._

**Chapter 1**

Reticuli was in a truly rare position. The top-secret research and development colony had been spared the Reaper advance, likely because it had only been known to a handful of Alliance brass. That mercy was going to end today... unless Commander Shepard did something about it.

Admiral Hackett had sent Shepard, his crew, and the Normandy to this fairly remote system to recover the weapon currently within the frigate's shuttle bay; the Massive ElectroMagnetic Ordinance, or MEMO. The colony brass suspected that the weapon could short out an entire Reaper if detonated in the right place, and early testing had been promising.

Shepard wasn't sure how the Reapers had found out, but he had gotten warning from Admiral Hackett that the Reapers were on the move, in force, and was approaching the Arcturus Relay quickly.

Shepard's orders were to secure the safety of the MEMO at all costs, but as Shepard looked back to the display, towards Reticuli Prime, the untouched serenity... and he couldn't let the inevitable happen. He couldn't let _another _planet be exterminated on his watch. No single weapon was worth that; especially one that even Admiral Hackett conceded was an even longer shot as a backup plan if the Crucible failed.

Shepard had a chance to actually _save _a planet for once. He was going to take it.

"Joker." The commander ordered to his pilot. "Before you hit the Mass Relay, wait for Cortez and Vega to prep the MEMO, and have it attached to the Mass Relay."

"Sir?" Joker queried with uncertainty. "I don't think that was the Admiral's orders."

Shepard ignored his pilot. "Tell the colony that once we have cleared the relay, they are to detonate the MEMO. With any luck, that thing will take out a relay just like it can theoretically take out a Reaper."

Joker finally got where Shepard was going with the order. "Without the Mass Relay, it would take the Reapers months to get here."

"Months that we'll have to end this damn war." Shepard grumbled. "It could save millions of lives."

"I don't think Admiral Hackett will be happy." The pilot noted.

"I think Admiral Hackett will get over it." Shepard retorted crossly. "Now, get to it." Turning away from his pilot, he was in communications with his crew down in the shuttle bay. "Lieutenant Vega, Cortez... I have something I need you to do, and quickly..."

* * *

><p>The video ended with a thrilling fireball and explosion which not only was completely inaccurate for an electromagnetic pulse, but also completely contrary to history, as anyone with a powerful enough telescope could see the lifeless Reticuli Relay still floating about at the outermost fringe of the system.<p>

The MEMO had certainly performed as advertised. The mass relay had gone completely dark, losing all power, now a floating piece of scrap metal as far as its use was.

With the video ended, the lights in the lecture hall brightened, and the holographic display in the center went into standby mode. Captain and Professor Marshall Brasser approached the podium at the head of the class, and addressed his students, "Glaring errors aside, the important events within the video are largely accurate. Commander John Shepard used the Massive ElectroMagnetic Ordinance to disable the Reticuli Relay, and spare the world the same gruesome genocidal fate as other planets within the galaxy."

With a single chuckle, he added, "And judging from the fact that there hasn't been a Reaper in orbit pounding this planet to slag in the one hundred years since, I think it's fairly safe to say that the Commander, and the Alliance's, endgame was successful regardless."

Several hands shot up in question, and Marshall picked the one that he suspected would be the most intelligent one, a remarkably bright senior graduate named Kaeli. There were times where her eyes, full of question and curiosity reminded him of...

… He shook his head of the thought, just like the millions of times those memories tried to weasel into his head. He couldn't let his thoughts go down that road. Not yet. Maybe not ever. "Yes, Cadet Bronson?"

"This is something that has always bothered me about the speculation of the Reaper War. If the Alliance had been successful... why hasn't contact been made since?"

The question was perhaps an obvious one, but it was also a valid one. "To be honest, no one knows." Marshall explained. "While there has been a handful of automated buoys that we've picked up on deep space transmission, it is true that nothing from an intelligent source has reached our range of detection. There are any number of theories for this. One is that the Reapers left after assuming they secured victory. I think this theory ignores the fact that the Reapers already knew this colony world existed, and that it wouldn't take a hundred years even without a mass relay to get here.

"Another is that the Alliance and the Reapers wiped themselves out, or at least the Alliance was reduced to a point where they no longer had the ability to communicate with outside systems. I don't like that theory because there was more than the Alliance out there... and we are relatively close enough to where the Quarian Flotilla patrolled that we should have picked up stray communication on that score."

He shrugged, implying to his students that his guess was as good as any. "The best theory I have is that Reticuli Prime was such a top-secret colony that it's entirely within the realm of the possible that the leaders who knew about our existence perished. I believe we... were just forgotten."

That wasn't a particularly settling thought, and Marshall knew it. Even now, it was a question that lingered, both in casual conversation and in scholarly debates. What had happened? It was almost as if the rest of the galaxy just... went dark... like the Reticuli Relay, and no theory adequately explained why.

Three trilling beeps indicated that the class was over, his students wasting no time cramming pads into their satchels or bags, and gathering all their personal goods to vacate the classroom. But their professor wasn't about to let them off just yet. "I know it's the Centennial and all, so I'm going to go easy on you. All I need is for you to read Chapter Forty-Two in _Old Alliance History_ for next week. Have fun during the holiday, and be safe!"

Marshall had noticed the trio weaving through the throng of students an hour ago, when they had appeared in the doorway as the vid had been playing. They were from High Command, judging by their uniforms, red and not carrying any distinctive regiment patch; lower officers, judging from their bars; and messengers, judging from the fact that they weren't carrying heavier arms, and didn't have twenty shock troops behind them.

"Captain Brasser?" The lady at the head of the trio asked, saluting crisply. She was a tiny thing, most likely an Admiral's assistant, fresh out of the academy and in her first desk duty before beginning higher officer training. Her hair just about matched her uniform, and was long down her back, and had a sickeningly adorable dusting of freckles across her high cheekbones. "Probationary Lieutenant Jessie Michal. I've been sent to inform you that the O-9 Board wishes to speak to speak with you."

The O-9 Board was the official title for the 5-star Admirals, the highest brass in the Nimea Military. Marshall wasn't terribly intimidated of them, having worked directly under their supervision for several years. But it did mean that whatever the issue was that Marshall was being asked for, it was a big deal.

He knew better than to ask what it was about. If it was an O-9 matter, that meant it was of the utmost secrecy, and that none of the three asked to send the message would even know. Returning the salute, he asked, "When?"

"As soon as possible, Sir."

Must be a really big deal if it came with an ASAP request. Marshall's mind ran through all the possibilities, and didn't particularly like any of them. Nonetheless, as he was still technically in service, he couldn't exactly decline. "Very well. Let's get this over with now. Have you already informed the academy administrators that I've been summoned to the O-9?"

"Yes, sir. Your assistant should be on his way to relieve you for your next period class."

"Will I be dismissed in time to retrieve my daughter from school?"

Lieutenant Michal shook her head. "Not likely. The O-9 Board has already made arrangements. Your next of kin has agreed to accept responsibility for your daughter."

It was both fortunate and sad that Kelsey was already quite familiar with this protocol. "Then I suppose you've covered all your bases, haven't you? Very well... let's not keep the admirals waiting."

Marshall took position behind Lieutenant Michal, the two other low officers falling in behind both of them. The procession took a longer route through the academy, likely to avoid main halls and drawing attention from the majority of the student body. They had also parked their vehicle convoy at the south exit of the Academy, a seldom used faculty lot that was furthest away from anything of note.

The middle of the three armored vehicles popped a rear door for Marshall's entry. The used of armored transport didn't necessarily mean anything, as most Nimea Military vehicles were of the armored variety, but it did serve as a reminder that whatever was going on was likely not something to be taken lightly.

Lieutenant Michal slid in first, allowing Marshall the seat closest to the door. The interior was far different to its rough armored exterior; with plush black leather seats along the walls rather than rows, an ice box separating each pair of seats, as well as full holo support in the form of a projector in the center of the cab. An armored transport re-purposed into a luxury travel vehicle.

Let no one say the Nimea Miliatry wasn't frugal.

Once Marshall had settled in, the lieutenant tapped the partition separating cab from driver, and the vehicle started to move, remarkably smoothly considering what it had originally been designed for. Marshall let silence rule for several minutes before he couldn't take Lieutenant Michal nearly drooling over him.

"Can I help you, Lieutenant?" He asked, perhaps with more coldness than he should have. She looked starstruck more than anything else... he should have been a little more cordial.

Jessie flushed nearly as red as her hair, and she looked away. "I am sorry, sir. I never thought I'd have the chance to meet you in person. You're... quite well known."

"For all the wrong reasons, I'm sure." Marshall answered dismissively. "How long have you been out of the academy? I teach so many classes I can't imagine you didn't run into me once."

"Two years, sir." She answered, "But I went to Leeds Academy... not Seattle."

The Nimea Military had several academies all throughout the continent. Marshall supposed it was rather presumptuous to assume that Lieutenant Michal had gone to the one in the same city as the one he taught; although the Seattle Academy tended to be the funnel for positions within High Command, as it was based in the same city. "I see."

"I had... dreams of making Black Ops, sir." Jessie admitted, curling the hair just above her shoulders with her right index finger. "I had heard so many stories during the Oceanic War... it stuck in my head. Even if I... didn't even come close to passing the physical quals... the specialists that took part in those missions... let's just say it's an honor, sir."

Marshall frowned. The Nimea media machine had horribly glorified the roles of Black Ops units during the short, small scale conflict that had offically ended six years ago. "War makes a person just as infamous as it does famous, lieutenant," he advised, "For every person like you in Nimea that thinks I'm a demigod, there a person in Sedin who would love to put a slug through my head and prove my mortality."

"I know, sir... but there's still that little girl in my head, who giggled in delight when I was told to escort you to the O-9 Board." Jessie rubbed the back of her head, embarrassed. "I probably sound like a lovesick teenager right now, don't I?"

Marshall shrugged. "I've seen worse. Don't worry; if you ever get the chance to know me, the majesty will die quickly." After a long pause, he asked, "So, when Black Ops didn't work out... what _did _you specialize in, Lieutenant?"

"Language and communications, sir." Jessie answered. "Specifically, what we know of the ancient Reticulan language. I also learned several human languages as well as the primary languages of the Asari, Quarians, and Turians during my graduate studies to maintain universal translator programs."

"There's still a market for those translators?" Marshall asked. Humans on Reticuli had adopted a common tongue nearly from the moment the colony was founded roughly one hundred and thirty years ago, and no one had heard even a peep from any other galactic species since the slagging of the Reticuli Relay.

Jessie tilted her hand back and forth. "It's good study, and... you never know, right? Ya gotta think those species are still out there... somewhere. Who knows who's gonna stumble into orbit one day?"

"I suppose so. Good point."

Jessie gathered up the courage to ask, "So... how many missions _did _you execute during the Oceanic War?"

"Offically? Seventeen."

A smug grin pulled across her features, "But how many did you _really _do?"

"Officially seventeen."

"No fun." She leaned back, then hastily added, "Sir."

"See? The wonder is already starting to fade, isn't it?"

Jessie shook her head, and laughed, "Hardly."

Marshall bit off his next retort when his omni-tool made a sharp three-tone beep, signaling an incoming communication, the specific trill identifying the caller without Marshall having to look at the ID displayed. He set the communication volume to personal, and held his palm to his ear. "Jonas. Interesting time for you to call. Almost like it was planned."

Jonas Moss was a 'retired' 5-star Admiral, and had been Marshall's direct superior for nearly nine years before said 'retirement.' Said 'retirement', however, was largely in name only; the man still had considerable pull with the O-9 Board, as well as political leaders, and very, very little happened in Nimea without Jonas's knowledge.

"How could that be?" Jonas replied, and Marshall could swear he heard the man smirking. "I'm retired. Complete random chance. Anyway, I trust Lieutenant Michal has already swung by the academy, and is bringing you to High Command?"

"Identifying my escort _by name_ probably isn't the best way to convince me you are in the dark, Jonas. What does the O-9 Board want with me?"

Jonas clicked his tongue derisively. "Not my place to talk about it, nor do I want to ruin the surprise. All I can tell you is that it's a big deal. I mean, _really big_, and it's _not _what you think."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The seven Admirals that comprised the O-9 Board were already in their seats and waiting by the time Marshall had stepped through the door to the conference room, a rarity in and of itself and confirming what little Jonas had told him... that whatever this was about was _big_.

Marshall recognized five of the Admirals on sight, Aliyah Suriman, Heero Tojimara, Ian MacShial, Bethany Ford, and the man in the center chair that replaced Jonas, Chair Admiral Lionel Parker. The other two were new faces to him, although he had been aware of their promotions, Dylan Smyth and Hendrick Holmstrom. They were seated along the outer side of a semi-circular table with a single chair on the inner side,

"Captain Brasser," Lionel said in greeting as Marshall saluted, the admiral gesturing to the inner chair. "Please be seated."

"Yes, sir. Greetings, Admirals." Marshall answered, swiftly obeying the order, more so that they could get to business as quickly as possible than anything else. The sooner he could figure out what they wanted, the sooner he could get home.

"Captain, how familiar are you with the Reticulan Chronicle?" The Chair Admiral asked.

"Next to everything that isn't considered highest top secret reserved for research and development." Marshall answered. Whether through his own studies or his military service, he had come to learn a lot about the ancient information cache that had turned this colony from a backwater resort to a hub for top secret military R&D leading to the shorting out of the Reticuli Relay.

The Reticulan Chronicle was nearly two million years old, and was by far the oldest coherent record of an advanced space-faring civilization known to the galaxy. The Reticulan species, as far as humanity had determined, had lived here as their homeworld, and had buried the Chronicle at near unfathomable depth into the planet's crust in the most stable geological strata on the planet, likely to elude the Reapers' attempts to erase their culture.

To say the Reticulans were clever in hiding the Chronicle as well as allowing future species access to it was putting it mildly. Apparently knowing that the Reapers came on a fairly regular cycle, the key to accessing the Chronicle came in a confluence of astral phenomenon that was on a similar cycle anywhere from ten to one hundred years before the Reapers arrived. That particular convergence, believed to be a conjunction of planets within the Reticuli system, set a hidden mechanism in motion that brought the Chronicle to the surface.

The Protheans apparently had access to the Chronicle for a short time, although current theory is that they didn't have nearly enough time to do much with it before they had to send it back down into hiding. But their efforts had given humanity a baseline to decipher the Reticulan language for when the Chronicle emerged again.

Most of what had been deciphered had been bits and fragments of Reticulan history, good for archeological study, but what had drawn scientists and the Old Alliance to the planet and started the chain in motion to what Reticuli Prime had become was in the technological designs that had been uncovered.

The Reticulans were very unique among what had been learned of the other species that had come before. Their technology, and its pursuit, was _far _different from the record of other sentient races; taking great pains to _avoid _the use of Element Zero or the Mass Relays, stubbornly developing alternatives that the Alliance, and then the two nations now on Reticuli Prime, had studiously tried to replicate.

Some of them were fairly simple to do. Humanity, especially after the start of the Reaper War took great interest in "matter weapons," carefully calibrated rounds of pure energy that upon reaching the targeted point coalesced into a plasma state.

While humanity had not been able to replicate the scale that the Reticulans had managed until very recently, the small munitions they were able to create were remarkably devastating, able to completely ignore conventional kinetic and biotic barriers before delivering small amounts of matter traveling at near the speed of light at point of impact. Nimea's development of matter weaponry had nearly been the end of Sedin forty years ago before the counter development of magnetic barriers that could thwart the matter weapon's "rounds."

Further study into the Chronicle had been thwarted after the Second Civil War. Where Nimea possessed the Chronicle, Sedin possessed the Pinot Stones, which contained the Protheans' attempts to translate the Reticulan language. Thus, Nimea's progress had been immensely slowed, and had been much of the reason for the Oceanic War.

Apparently something on that score had changed if Marshall was being asked about it.

Chair Admiral Parker confirmed that suspicion, "Then you are aware of much of the technology, both what we have developed and what we couldn't... at least, until the last three months." He tapped a button on the table in front of him, and said, "You may send in Lieutenant Commander Toole."

A side door to the left of where Marshall had entered slid open to allow an auburn haired man in neatly pressed dress reds, although the collar carried splotches of what appeared to grease. He saluted the admirals, then Marshall, saying, "Lieutenant Commander Lance Toole. Senior Engineer for the Seattle Research and Development Program. It's an honor, Captain."

"Lieutenant Commander, explain to Captain Brasser what has recently been discovered." Admiral Suriman ordered, motioning towards the still empty seat to her right.

Engineer Toole complied, and had called up the relevant information onto a holographic projection from the ceiling to the center of the room. The image in question was a technical schematic, surrounding what appeared to be the symbol of infinity. "What is this I am looking at?" Marshall asked.

"We have dubbed it the 'Mobius Core.' It's primary purpose appeared to be an alternative energy source to eezo drive cores. It uses an anti-proton stream, contained along a negatively charged filament, and hitting a phasic shift field at central point of the filament, changing its polarity and generating tremendous bursts of energy... at least for a short period of time. At this current point in our development, it is... dreadfully inefficient."

Marshall nodded, "Let me guess, with each burst, it loses speed and eventually freezes up?"

Lance shook his head, "The opposite, actually. Each time the anti-proton stream changes phase, it _speeds up_, eventually generating more energy than we can store, and causing an overload that blows up the drive... and anything else within a kilometer radius."

"So _that _is the real story behind the supposed impact event a year ago outside New Naples." Marshall deduced, earning a series of solemn nods from the O-9 Board. "Must be a pretty small core then?"

"Not even a fifty centimeters for the core and mounting." Lance answered, "We've also since developed a system that powers down the core as it gets too fast, and manages energy usage from batteries in the down time to allow for continuous power with uninterrupted flow... which has allowed us to finally finish a project that interested Nimea greatly."

The image switched to what Marshall identified as a stellar drive, by the label given to the display. "The massive amounts of energy generated by the Mobius Core allow us the power to utilize what R&D has called the "Needlepoint Drive."

The display shifted again, this time to a small, animated diagram. "The Needlepoint Drive forms energy into a gravity well at two distinct locations, using a quantum needle to connect the two points." The display popped up two said points, and a line connecting them. "From there, the gravity wells collapse along the needle and join together just short of a singularity, creating a shortcut in space and time. This wormhole can be held for just short of four hours, and is stable enough for solid matter to pass through, crossing vast distances factors faster than traditional FTL drives."

Both Nimea and Sedin had vessels with FTL technology, but it wasn't exactly a huge investment for either country. Even with the fastest drives they could manage, it was roughly a six year flight to any system of note within the Old Alliance. "Are you saying...?" Marshall let the question die off.

"What would have been a six year flight to the Savir System could theoretically be done in forty-seven minutes using the Needlepoint Drive judging from the remote automated tests we had done."

Marshall was fairly skeptical. "While that's all well and good, how would you know where to generate the destination point? If history was any indication, space could be a dangerous place... flying blind isn't exactly a great idea. And what about communication? Seems a bit absurd to have to charge up the drive to get comm through."

"As for communication, direct quantum stringing communication had been in existence even during the Old Alliance. As long as there is a static point to send such communication, such as the Solar Sync Station, near instantaneous comm is more than possible." Lance replied. "As for the more difficult question, there is one way to get real time, accurate telemetry that we can use to program the destination for the Needlepoint Drive."

"How is that?"

"You know the automated buoys from the Old Alliance that we can pick up on?"

Marshall's eyes widened. "You expect to use one hundred year old technology to give a destination? Don't you think that is a bit risky?"

"Not at all, sir." Lance retorted confidently, "There are three very solidly broadcasting buoys that Solar Sync Station can pick up on at all times. They were made to last, sir. It's not surprising that many are still operational, and still providing accurate, up-to-date data."

Marshall wasn't _entirely _certain where this discussion was going, he had a sinking feeling he wasn't going to like it once they got to the point. Better to try and get right to the dagger rather than be slowly bled to death. "And what exactly does this all mean, admirals?"

The display shifted once again, this time to a live video feed. Marshall identified the scene as outside of Solar Sync Station, a solar locked space station just outside the farthest planet's orbit, but inside the orbit of the Reticuli Relay. It held position above the system's elliptic, giving it a prime position to coordinate communication and spy on Sedin's military movements. Marshall had underwent two missions on the station, both unofficial, as the station itself technically did not exist. The first had been a simple transport of sensitive intelligence. The second had been to take the station back from a sneak attack and seizure by Sedin Black Ops teams.

But the station wasn't the focus of attention; that belonged to the ship moored on temporary docking to the station. It resembled the Old Alliance frigates from before and during the Reaper War, although with the red and gold color scheme of the Nimea Military. It was certainly a majestic thing to see; the resemblance uncanny... all the way down to the appearance of the engines and location of the forward and rear batteries.

The historian in him was awestruck, even as the military man in him was starting to piece together the whole thing and was not sure if he liked where the briefing was going or not. "Is that...?"

"This has been the culmination of three years of top secret research, resources, and construction. Considering the Old Alliance tradition of naming their frigates after famous battles, the O-9 Board has settled on the designation, NMS Iwo Jima."

The video angle moved into a sweeping dramatic shot of the frigate's starboard side, where the designation was clearly printed, and giving an even better detailed look at the ship itself, at that point, the miltary man within Marshall shut up, and let the historian enjoy the show for a little bit. "It's amazing. It looks almost _exactly _like the vids of the Old Alliance craft."

And then Chair Admiral Parker spoke, causing the historian to take a seat and allow the military man to take over, because what the admiral had to say had the potential to be life changing. "Captain Brasser, considering your historical knowledge, especially of the Old Alliance, their customs, as well as their shared history with other species of the galaxy... along with your experience handling deep space situations and extensive military and combat record, we feel you would be the best choice to lead the expedition. As such, the O-9 Board has recommended and is extending you the captain's chair of the Iwo Jima as we reach for the stars."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Alpha Reticuli was halfway off the horizon by the time Marshall was granted leave. To say he was not exactly pleased was an understatement. His mood didn't brighten much when he saw who had pulled up to the lot to escort him back to the Academy where his own vehicle was still located.

Jonas didn't miss the glare either. "Did you have fun with the O-9?" He said cheerily, as he ordered his driver to proceed.

"You put them up to this, didn't you?" Marshall accused.

There were times where Jonas looked every bit the ninety-seven years old he really was. This was one of those times. The normally lively brown eyes that blended with his chocolate skin dulled with sympathy. "_I _didn't put them up to anything. I offered your name to the board. They approved it. It's a unique opportunity, and you deserve it."

"I have a _daughter_, Jonas." Marshall reminded, "I can't just take her up into outer space with me."

Jonas rolled his eyes, "I know you've already seen the mission plan. It's at best a one year tour of duty, and that's if _everything _goes without a hitch and completely smoothly. You spent longer time away while on active combat duty."

"That was also when..." Marshall cut himself off.

"And _that _is why I recommended you." Jonas said, pointing at Marshall. "That right there. You haven't moved on. You can't even _say _Alice's name, after six damn years. You need to get away from all this. You need a new challenge."

Jonas leaned his head towards the window of his vehicle, where the night sky was starting to blanket the hemisphere, and the brightest stars of the sky began to twinkle. "And there's no challenge greater than the one the O-9 Board just dropped in your lap."

Marshall ran his right hand from his temple to the back of his neck. "I'll tell you what I told the O-9. I'll think about it. Give me a chance to talk to Kelsey and Marie and Roger. They're the ones that are going to be most affected by this."

Jonas nodded, "No one was expecting a response right away. The admirals respect you and what you've done for this country. They'll give you all the time you need. The mission won't advance any further until you accept or decline... although I wouldn't push their patience _too _far."

"I should have a response in forty-eight hours." Marshall retorted, letting his thoughts mull over the opportunity offered to him, even as he was delivered back to the academy, and then onto the trip home. He lived a good seventy kilometers outside of downtown Seattle, so it was never exactly a short jaunt to begin with. But this time felt like it took halfway short of forever.

It was true that he was a Captain in the Nimea Fleet, but that had been solely as specialist ops. He had never actually commanded a ship, either oceanic or space. He was theoretically trained to do so, a requirement of the O-7 training to make Captain rank... but that training had been over a decade ago. To take command of the Iwo Jima would be a definite deviation from his military career.

But then again... this was, as Jonas had put it, a truly unique opportunity. No one had been past the Tarus system in over a hundred years. And to be one of the first from Reticuli to revisit Earth? To be one of a handful of people to see humanity's homeworld? The historian in him was internally giggling at the prospect. To seek answers to the questions that have lingered for one hundred years... and to be the commanding officer of that search... it was _certainly _enticing, even if he had been cross towards Jonas about it.

"Daddy!"

That squeal broke his train of thought. At the closed window of his car, a young girl had slapped her hands enthusiastically against the glass, her nose and mouth pressed so close that her breath was actually fogging the window.

The interruption helped him realize two things. One, that he was already home... and that his daughter shouldn't be. Fortunately, the reason for the latter issue was resolved quickly enough when his sister, Marie, and her husband, Roger Cashell, appeared from the front door of Marshall's home.

Marshall exited his vehicle, and quickly gathered up his daughter. Kelsey looked far more like him than her mother; having his brown hair rather than her mother's blond, his brown eyes rather than her mother's green, as well as most of his facial features. This was either a good or a bad thing, depending on Marshall's mood... right now, it was rather good. Jonas's invoking of Alice had stirred up memories that he was tired of reliving.

Marie then supplied the answer to their presence, "Jonas called, said that we should all meet you here. I guess there's something 'really important' to talk about."

Of course he did.

"Daddy, put me down!" Kelsey shrieked impatiently. At ten years old, she finally reached that age where she didn't want to be 'treated like a baby', which being carried apparently was one such way. Reluctantly, he set his daughter back onto solid ground, where she grabbed his hand, and starting tugging him towards the front door. "Come on! Tell us! Come on, come on!"

"We'll talk about this when we get inside, okay?" Marshall replied, stepping through the door, and nudging Kelsey past the landing and towards to hall to the right. "But I want to talk to Aunt Marie and Uncle Roger first. So, go to your room, and I'll come talk to you when I'm ready, okay?"

Kelsey didn't look like she was okay with the order, but also was not one to protest or throw a tantrum over it. She trudged, reluctantly, to her bedroom, slowly closing the door behind her. Marshall wasn't terribly worried if she stuck her head in and tried to sneak a peak, he just wanted to get Marie and Roger's opinion on the matter without his daughter butting in.

Marshall was very thorough explaining the details of his offered mission, at least to the extent he was allowed to. Because of this, the pair was _very _dubious about many of his claims.

"You expect to make a grand circle tour of Old Alliance space in a _year's _time. I'm no scientist, but I'm not sure how that's possible."

Marie however, suspected the most of it. "I'm sure it involves classified technology us civilians aren't permitted to know the details of. You know how that works, Roger. We've been married fifteen years now. We've cared for Kelsey before, and for longer than a year."

Marshall suspected that part of the reason that his little sister had no problems watching his daughter was because she couldn't have children of her own; the result of a miscarriage that led to hemorrhaging that led to her fallopian tubes having to be surgically removed.

Roger wasn't quite as forgiving. While he had no particular problems with Kelsey, to say Marshall's relationship with his brother-in-law was strained would be putting it gently. "At least this time, we'd be watching her while you do something... worthwhile."

There was a long, awkward silence that followed Roger's very cold remark. Marie gave her husband a steely glare. "And we'll watch her again if you decide to do this." She said to her brother while not turning her gaze off Roger. When she finally turned her head back towards Marshall, her voice had lost its edge. "I think you should take this billet. I agree with Jonas that it will be good for you. I know you like teaching... but your life has been the military, being out in the field, not in an academy."

Roger stayed silent, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to offer anything that hadn't already been said. In Roger's defense, Marshall didn't think his brother-in-law was necessarily wrong. Marshall had been absent from Kelsey's life for nearly all of her first five years. It was important he be there, especially now that... Kelsey's mother... was gone.

But Jonas and Marie were right too. God, Marshall couldn't even _think_ of his departed wife, and there was so much here that constantly reminded him of her. Every inch of this house had her smell and presence still lingering. He needed time away from that constant memory, it was a fresh wound that refused to heal. The question was if the far reaches of space were a necessary distance.

"Your thoughts are noted. Now... I suppose I should let Kelsey know what this is all about."

Marshall _hated _Kelsey's room. It had nothing to do with his daughter, or the décor – although bright pink and white was a bit of an insult to his masculine side – but because out of every room in the house, that was where his wife's presence was the greatest.

He remembered how Kelsey's mother spent hours in this room while pregnant with the girl. He remembered how said pregnancy was the reason _why _they had bought the house in the first place. He remembered the tough-as-nails infantryman turning into a complete softie whenever thoughts of the life she was carrying entered her mind. He remembered how terrified of her reaction to maternity leave was, only to have her accept it with delight. He remembered how she had finally put her foot down, and refused to be swayed by the Marine Corps wanting to keep her in the field, and accepting a drill sergeant duty in Seattle so that she could be home more often...

… and he remembered her last mission far too keenly.

His mind was spared that despairing decent by Kelsey's voice. "Daddy, are you gonna stand out there all night, or are you gonna come in?"

Marshall didn't answer verbally, instead just opening the door. Kelsey was on her pink blanketed bed, kicking her feet back and forth and an impish smile on her face. She patted the mattress next to her and said, "Come in, Captain. We need to have a briefing!"

He smiled, even as the words struck another bitter cord. Her mother said that every time before they had an argument, for whatever reason. "I suppose we do, huh?" He answered, keeping a brave face as he followed his daughter's suggestion.

"So what did Grandpa Jonas want?" She asked.

Jonas wasn't _really _Kelsey's grandfather, but with both of Marshall's parents dead, and the grandparents on her mother's side not having been on good terms with her mother before Kelsey had even been born, Jonas was the closest thing to a grandfather Kelsey had. The title had been flattering to Jonas, and he had accepted it quite eagerly.

"Grandpa Jonas didn't want anything." Marshall explained, officially not a lie even though it really was. "My superiors want me to command a starship."

"A starship?" Kelsey asked, "That's the ships in space, right?"

"Yes."

His daughter's eyes grew wide in amazement. "Cooooooool..." she drawled slowly. "Are you gonna go way out?"

"Further than anyone on Reticuli has in a hundred years." He answered.

"Are you gonna go to Earth?" She asked excitedly. Clearly they had reached that point in her history class where the homeworld of humanity was discussed.

"I'm not sure if I'm going at all." Marshall replied, laughing in spite of himself. "But... maybe."

"Why might you not go?" She asked, genuinely confused as to why he'd consider not.

"I have to decide if I want to. I still haven't done that yet."

Kelsey lunged at her father, grabbing the jacket of his uniform, and giving it an attempt at an angry shake. "You _gotta _go, Daddy! You _gotta_! Don't be _stupid_!"

Marshall leaned away from his daughter, astonished by the urgency in her words. "Is that right, kiddo? And why do I 'gotta'?"

"Because Mrs. Templeton says that no one has been to Earth since the relay broke!" Kelsey explained, as if this should all be obvious. "We could have _family _there! I could have cousins!"

Marshall could help but laugh. "Dearie, there's been so much time removed that any relatives would be very distant, at best." His tone turned somber. "It could be dangerous, too. And I will be gone for as much as a year. Would you be okay with that?"

Kelsey nodded, "Aunt Marie and Uncle Roger are nice to me. I like their home. I'll be okay." She started wringing her hands, and looked down at her feet before adding nervously, "I know... that you still feel mommy. Here. And I do too. But... my memories are happy ones. Yours... are mostly sad. I can tell."

Kelsey leaned into her father, her head resting just underneath his arm, an arm that wrapped over her shoulders and to her waist. "Mommy wouldn't want you to be sad." She whispered.

Marshall tightened the contact into a hug, and kissed the top of Kelsey's head. Then his eyes drifted off towards nowhere in particular, and he said, "No... no, she wouldn't."

* * *

><p>Marshall had decided to not waste the O-9 Board's time. Once he had the promised support of his sister and brother-in-law, along with Kelsey's blessing, Marshall contacted the admirals that following morning.<p>

"I've decided to accept the commission to command the Iwo Jima... one on condition." He had said. "I get to choose my XO."

Chair Admiral Parker accepted the stipulation without any complaint. "We had anticipated such. To be honest, the Commander was on our list of potential candidates for second chair anyway. We are forwarding specifics of your mission as well as the schedule for departure to your omni-tool now. We look forward to your tour, Captain. O-9 out."

Which was what brought him on the long trek to the Mariana Coast. Granted, he had access to an official high speed personnel shuttle, but it was still a good long trip that took meant it was past noon by the time he arrived at the nearest base to his destination. Nimea was a massive continent from north to south, he went from a temperate zone, to a tropical, and back to a temperate one, by the time he climbed off the craft and went searching for his quarry.

Said quarry was stationed even further south along the coast, in a largely inaccessible cove where the Nimea Military had placed a listening post for Sedin movements at sea. That leg of the journey required use of a navy vessel, as there was no clear point for a shuttle landing through the heavy forest cover.

He didn't like the look of the early evening sun by the time he was loaded into a smaller transport craft to be dropped off at the coastline. He had been quietly hoping that he would be back home that day... and now that was not likely to happen.

But at least he'd be spending the night with good company and an old friend.

Commander Ian "Smoke" Takei was a man of Irish and Japanese descent, which Marshall – perhaps stereotypically – liked to a Labrador breeding with a Chihuahua. The end result of this genetic experiment gone wrong was something Marshall wondered was actually human; 215 centimeters and 165 kilos of pure muscle, like a layer of skin slapped over lovingly chiseled granite. Marshall figured Smoke was actually the product of a horny geneticist trying to build a boyfriend.

Fortunately, he was also one of the most laid back and genuinely nice people Marshall ever had the pleasure of meeting and working with.

The two of them went several years back, Smoke having been Marshall's second in command for the entirely of their time in Black Ops. They had been academy classmates even before that, separated only for the initial two years before they both passed their B Op Quals. There probably wasn't a person on Reticuli Marshall was more comfortable discussing _anything _with, even Jonas.

Unlike getting there, finding Smoke wasn't exactly hard; just see which human was roughly 10 centimeters taller than everyone else.

"Smoke!" Marshall bellowed, repeating the call when the man whirled around to try and locate the sound of the voice. "Smoke!"

Smoke's face brightened like Alpha Reticuli once he found the man calling him. "Ghost!" He bellowed, followed by an equally bellowing laugh as he charged across the listening post. The two met with a handshake that would have probably broken most people's hands, followed by a clap on the back that even Marshall worried might bruise.

"About time you got out from behind that podium and back with the rest of the real men!" Smoke then laughed. Outside of missions, Smoke didn't do much softly. "Although judging from the dress reds, I suspect you're not here to fire off a couple rounds."

Smoke led Marshall towards a more secluded portion of the post, not that there was any place within the small cove that was really private. "Jonas gave me a ring and told me you were coming... but I couldn't figure out why."

Marshall looked around the post, trying to find a unit tag before he was successful, "Still with B Op 5, huh?"

Smoke nodded, "I'd been offered some promotions, but they were all desk jobs... like yours. I mean, I know you like teaching, don't get me wrong... and it's not like there were too many other options for you after... you know..."

Marshall held up a warding hand. "Yeah, I know."

The large man shrugged, "There was scuttlebutt a couple days ago about my name being bounced around the O-9 Board for _something_, but you know how it is with the top brass, everything is classified top secret and often leads to nothing."

Smoke tapped his chin, then added, "Come to think of it, your name was supposedly being bandied about for something too. Is that why you're here?"

"It's possible." Marshall replied, "There is some _huge _news and an offer I have for you... but as you said, with the O-9 Board, it's all classified stuff. We need a secure location to talk."

* * *

><p>The secure location was Smoke's "office", which also served as his bunk and a space Marshall was frankly amazed the large man even <em>fit <em>in. With the windows closed and blinds drawn, it would serve as sufficient enough seclusion.

From there, Marshall explained everything he knew, passing along the information he got from the O-9 board to supplement what he was saying. At the end of the pitch, Smoke was understandably a bit overwhelmed.

"Wow." Smoke said simply. "Just... wow. I mean... wow." He pointed to his omni-tool, where an image of the Iwo Jima was hovering on display. "This is for real?"

"If it's not, I'm being pranked just as hard as you." Marshall replied.

"And you want me to be the second chair on this?" Smoke continued, grinning from ear to ear. "Ya know, I used to pick on sailors for being tied to ships. Now you want _me_ to do it."

"Well, you know how it is. We're Black Ops. Even when ship bound, we get to do all the cool stuff."

That drew another laugh from the towering man. "True enough." His eyes drifted back to the Iwo Jima, fixated on the craft. "Wow. Just... wow."

"I told you it was big news." Marshall then leaned back in his chair, put his hands behind his head, and asked, "So... what do you say? Are you in?"

Smoke rubbed his chin, "Let me think about it... do I want to be second chair on a historical mission exploring the galaxy... or do I want to remain part of what amounts to a glorified border patrol? That's a tough one." With mock thoughtfulness, he lifted an eyebrow and said, "Can you come back in a few days? I really got to think this through."

Marshall chuckled, and shook his head. "I'll let the O-9 Board know you approve of the commission."

They both stood, shared another handshake, and then Marshall led the way out of the "office" and towards the transport ship that would take them back to Singapore Base.

"So... what does Kelsey think about all this?"

"She damn near _ordered _me to take the commission."

"Not surprised." After a beat, Smoke added, "Jonas is responsible for all this, isn't he?"

"Oh, absolutely."

"... Not surprised, either."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The shuttle jerking to a stop as the mooring clamps locked into place were the only indication Marshall received that they had successfully reached Solar Sync Station. He finally lifted his head, and regarded the exit as whirring machinery grew louder from the other side.

"Remember the last time we were here, Smoke?" He asked.

Smoke aid, "As I recall, we _cut _our way into the airlock, and there were seventeen Sedin shock troops on the other side with assault rifles and bad moods." Following a beat, he asked, "We don't have to cut our way in again, do we? I don't like EVAs."

The hiss of air pressurizing the docking tunnel on the other side of the shuttle's hull confirmed that such extremes wouldn't be necessary. "Captain, Commander, you are clear to disembark." The shuttle pilot announced. "Welcome to Solar Sync Station."

Marshall nodded to Smoke, and gathered his duffel bag. It felt like a distant relative he hadn't seen in years; the weight as the straps settled on his shoulders was a familiar one, but the soreness that followed reminded him of how long it had been since he had crammed every vital belonging he needed into a 5 foot long container.

The docking bridge that connected their shuttle to the station proper had long panoramic windows, which Marshall found amusing considering how little there really was to see. There was nothing in the orbit of the station that was significantly visible to the naked eye. The two nearest; the gas giant Reticuli 4 and the inert Mass Relay, were merely brighter dots in the star speckled expanse of outer space.

Another set of airlock doors opened for them, and then they were truly on the grounds of the Solar Sync Station. The deep space observation post was officially purposed for scientific study of deep space, trying to detect any signs of civilization still remaining outside the system boundary. While it _did _do that, truth being was that the station was more often had its equipment turned _inwards_, it's static position giving it a good viewing angle of Sedin movements on Reticuli Prime.

As such, it was not exactly built for size or comfort. Even the normal crew allotments made the station feel cramped, much less the greatly expanded crew necessary to construct the _Iwo Jima_. This much was made clear as both Marshall and Smoke had to take two steps back moments after their feet landed to keep from running into a cadre of engineers briskly walking past.

It was nary a second longer that both men were approached by a more formal uniformed man and two armed security officers. "Captain Brasser, Commander Takei, I'm Captain Omar Tajmadeen, the commanding officer of Solar Sync Station. Welcome aboard."

Tajmadeen was even shorter than Marshall, which meant Smoke dwarfed the olive skinned captain with absurdly black hair. He had to been in his fifties, Marshall guessed, judging from the lines of age in his face and hands as well as the seeming stiffness in his joints as he saluted.

"Glad to be aboard, Captain." Marshall answered, Smoke following Marshall's lead in returning the salute. "Hope we're not interrupting anything."

"Nothing I won't be immensely glad to have gone." Omar replied with an annoyed grunt. "This place is packed tight on normal duty. If you had to spend the last three years here, you'd be thanking God for the space you'll be getting on that frigate of yours."

Marshall cringed. Knowing personally how tight ship life could get, he didn't want to imagine a scenario where it would be _welcome_. "Well, then the Commander and I won't take up any more of your time and space. If you'll just point us to where we need to go, we'll get out of your hair."

"Easier just to show you." Omar replied, gesturing for them to follow, security taking position behind the three officers.

"Is it just me, or do the hallways seem smaller than I remember?" Smoke eventually asked, as he found himself ducking underneath a series of exposed pipes.

Omar nodded, "We've had to add a _lot _of functionality to the station to be able to construct the _Iwo Jima. _All the new wiring, plumbing, and ventilation had to go _somewhere_. You think this is bad, try getting mess sometime."

Smoke shook his head. "I'll pass, sir."

That drew a chuckle from the obviously worn down station officer. "You know, Captain, I envy you... and not just because of space restrictions." He paused at an exterior porthole, where the profile of the _Iwo Jima _stood in front of the starscape. "I've been stationed here at Solar Sync for three years, but I've never exactly felt like I was out in space. You... you and your crew actually get to go _out there_. I envy you that."

Marshall smirked in spite of himself. "I'll get you a postcard while I'm out there."

Another tired laugh, and when Omar stopped again, it was in front of another airlock door. "Here we are, Captain, Commander." Omar's omni-tool flashed to life as he started inputting commands onto the interface that appeared. Captain, I am sending your duty roster and cargo manifest to your omni-tool right now. Some of your crew has already arrived, and the rest will be coming within the next three days. In fact, I believe one of the crew shuttles is due to dock in thirty minutes." He looked up at the pair and asked, "I trust you can find your way from here. Is there anything else you require?"

Marshall shook his head. "No, I think we're good for now, Captain. We won't bother you any longer."

"Comm if you need me." Omar said in pleasant parting, flipping a hand to his security as they took their leave.

Marshall keyed in his ID to the airlock console, and the door slid open, already pressurized due to the ship in dry dock. The docking bridge seemed longer leading to the _Iwo Jima _than the one from their shuttle... whether that was actually the case or simply because of building anticipation was unclear.

But when the frigate's airlock doors opened, then they were scanned through and let inside the ship proper... it was worth the wait.

"I love that new ship smell." Smoke said with a deep breath and exaggerated sigh.

Joke or not, Marshall could indeed smell a sterile, clean scent as he took his first breaths on the _Iwo Jima_. That unblemished, unoccupied odor that he knew from experience would _quickly _fade away. So he was going to enjoy the freshness while it lasted.

Smoke then got a big, playful grin, and said. "Okay... I gotta do this."

Marshall's eyes narrow in suspicion. "Do what?"

Smoke held up a finger, inhaled, then bellowed, "_CAPTAIN ON THE DECK!_"

Marshall cringed, his ears ringing from Smoke's yell. If he hadn't known Smoke for years, he would have never believed that the Commander could be one of the sneakiest bastards on Reticuli Prime. "Goddamn it, Smoke... a little warning would have been great." He groused, holding his left hand to his still throbbing eardrum.

A grumbling female voice then floated over the comm. "Whoever was responsible for that racket down there; we _have _ship comm for a _reason_."

Smoke was unapologetic. "That racket came from your XO, I'll have you know."

The voice was not the least bit chided. "Well then... we have a ship comm for a reason, _sir._"

That got the massive Commander to laugh, "I like her."

Marshall punched Smoke on the arm, and said, "Come on. Let's get settled in."

They were interrupted when the VI system activated in front of them. "Greetings Captain Brasser, I am the _Iwo Jima _VI system. May I take you on a tour of your new ship, sir?"

"That won't be necessary." Marshall replied with a warding hand. He wasn't terribly used to VI's, having very little use for them in Black Ops teams, and never really getting over the uncanny valley phase since. It didn't help that the VI currently chose a projection of a featureless, vaguely human figure... the default setting for all first time activated VI's produced by the Nimea Military.

"Understood, Captain." The VI replied with the same even, unemotional voice. "Do you need directions to your quarters?"

Marshall had to acknowledge that would be useful information. "Yes, actually. The Commander could probably use his as well."

The VI tilted its head a hair to the left. "Processing... Captain, your quarters are here on Deck Two, connected to the bridge on the aft starboard side. Commander, your quarters are on Deck Three, fore starboard, past the main battery. Both quarters should carry your name plates for your convenience."

"Thank you." Marshall dismissed. "That will be all for now."

"Please be aware that you can set a skin and/or voice pack for this system at your leisure. This system will now go on standby."

Once it did, Smoke shivered. "Do those things give you the creeps too?"

"I'd rather have a full AI." Marshall agreed. "They have personality."

"You'd think after sparing no expense building the thing, they wouldn't have skimped with the ship intelligence system."

Marshall laughed. "The O-9 Board tried to get an AI on board, actually. None of them wanted to go." He shrugged, then explained, "Can't blame them really. The Old Alliance used to react to any potential AI with lethal force. Isn't worth the risk in case we come across the same attitudes out there at some point."

Not that human/AI relations were exactly perfect in Nimea. It was more a wary tolerance by the populace rather than acceptance, but for the seventeen active AI platforms in the country, tolerance was a vast improvement from living in constant fear of destruction if they were discovered. It was taking time, but people on Reticuli Prime were starting to realize that computers were people too.

"I'll see you on the bridge in thirty, Ghost." Smoke announced, taking a turn left, following the convenient markings on the wall towards the elevator. Marshall took the same fork right, towards the bridge. He passed up giving the bridge a good look until he could get this damn bag off his protesting shoulder.

His quarters were actually larger than he expected; although he supposed that was because it was also serving as his ready room, judging from the workspace and terminal on the port side. Marshall figured it would feel small enough in time.

At least he had his own bathroom.

He dropped his duffel bag with a sigh of relief, rolling his shoulder to try and get some solid circulation back to the joint. He could worry about unpacking that thing later. Giving his quarters another satisfactory once over, he turned full about, and back onto the bridge.

The aft section of the bridge was for the bridge officers, none of which were present. He entertained examining his duty roster to figure out exactly who those officers would be, then passed it up when he noticed activity at the fore section.

The fore section consisted of the command chairs, as well as the helm stations. At the primary helm station was where Marshall had noticed movement, the occupant swiveling to face the Captain as he approached.

She was a fairly tall woman; Marshall guessed about 180 centimeters when standing. She had vividly bright white hair, but with a very young, unblemished face that suggested the hair was a course of genetics rather than age.

"Captain, good day, sir." The woman said, standing to salute. "Flight Lieutenant Chipper Dean, sir."

"At ease, Lieutenant." Marshall ordered, returning the courtesy, Chipper complying with little hesitation, and turning her seat swiftly back to the helm. "So... Chipper, is it? Is that a nickname?"

"Due to my bubbly and infectious personality, sir." The lieutenant deadpanned. After a short pause, she added. "In truth, my parents were... Alternatives, sir. It could have been worse. My father wanted to name me Sunshine."

"Ah." That made sense. "Good thing he was talked out of that."

The Alternative Movement wasn't so much a political one as it was cultural. It had followers on both countries, and even had won some seats on Sedin's Consulate Body, if Marshall remembered correctly. The movement's most notable tenet was a resistance to technology, although the degree and nature of that resistance varied from group to group, as well as a more lax approach to social mores.

"I take it your parents don't exactly approve of your career." Marshall said.

"That's one way of putting it. Another would be angry to the point of throwing all my personal belongings out on the front yard and setting them on fire after learning of my enlistment."

Marshall nodded, "I know something about that. My..." He froze as he realized what he was about to say before hastily amending, "Someone I knew had something similar happen when she enlisted into the Marine Corps. They disowned her and even tried to legally force her to change her name."

Chipper shook her head. "For a community that preaches peace and love, they sure have their passive aggressive moments."

Kelsey's mother had more than a few stories to tell about her early life, and Marshall suspected that Chipper would have many of the same. Entire days spent alone while her parents were off getting baked with whatever leafy green could be had... not being allowed to get proper medical attention because "the government's drugs are lies"... needing child services to force the parents to enroll their children in school because "the government lies to you"... sexual abuse by one or both parents, the latter being the case for Kelsey's mother... the extreme factions of the Alternative Movement could be really unnerving to hear about.

Not that it was all horror stories; no more so than the extremist fringe of _any _political or cultural group. Alternatives were one of the first groups to push for an acceptance of Artificial Intelligence, for example, under the belief that all people are equal, regardless of what its made of. And there was certainly _something _to be said for a careful thought process of where technology was leading a society. Not every advancement is advisable or even a good idea.

Not that the Flight-Lieutenant wanted to hear that, he was sure.

"Tell me a little about your service record, Lieutenant. I only got the duty roster as I reached Solar Sync, and haven't had a chance to look it over yet."

"Not much to know, sir." Chipper answered. "Ten thousand hours of helm experience, Eight point five as full Flight-Lieutenant, and seven thousand serving in zero atmosphere conditions. Was the chief helmsman for the Cruiser Honolulu, fighter pilot for the Carrier Van Gogh, and the dignitary shuttle pilot for the O-9 Board. I know how to fly, sir."

Marshall smirked at the Lieutenant's defensiveness. "Didn't say you didn't."

Finally, Chipper turned back around the face the Captain. "I know that, sir... it can be tough earning respect as a pilot if you don't have a dick, sir. I... can get a bit aggressive if I think people might be questioning my credentials. I'm sorry, sir."

"No apologies necessary, Lieutenant. I'm rather dismayed that Flight Academy has kept that misogyny from the pre-spaceflight days on Earth. Rest assured, I do not doubt you in the slightest."

Chipper pointed an approving finger. "This is why I liked the idea of a specialist Captain. If they come up through the ship ranks, they all have that chauvinism pre-installed into them. Those that serve in the paramilitary ranks don't have that attitude."

Marshall shrugged with a teasing grin, "What can I say? We're better fighters, better officers, and better people. It comes with the territory of making the cut."

"Won't get any argument from _this _ship rat, sir."

Marshall and Chipper shared a polite chuckle, and Marshall concluded, "Carry on, Lieutenant. I think we'll work together just fine."

Chipper spun about to the helm once more, and added softly, "I think so too."

Marshall counted seven strides from the helm to the captain's chair. It was not exactly the most elaborate design; a bucket seat with a swivel mount, and two interfaces on each side. Unlike the helm chairs, however, it had what looked to be a reasonably comfortable brown leather covering... relatively speaking.

Testing the seat confirmed that assessment. It was not "comfort" in the sense he was used to teaching at the academy, but he had little doubt any other chair on the ship was going to be far worse.

Then the clack of raised heels on the deck caught his ear and eventually his attention. Dressed in formal uniform, garrison hat, and skirt, a small duffel bag slung over her right shoulder, with red hair and freckles a very distinguishable identification of the newest arrival.

Marshall stood as she came to stop in front of him, her body literally trembling with excitement as she saluted. "Lieutenant Jessie Michal reporting for duty, sir!" She held the pose for five seconds, before hastily dropping her saluting hand and falling into attention... the quivering of her every muscle notwithstanding.

"At ease, Lieutenant." Marshall said, internally laughing as Jessie slid her legs shoulder width apart, hands behind her back. It would be a picture perfect example of "at ease" by protocol, even if absolutely _nobody _with experience did so... and ignoring the fact she was still thrumming like a plucked violin string. "I take it you're my comm officer, Lieutenant Michal?"

"Primary Comm Officer, yes, sir." Jessie chirped. "It's an honor to be serving under you, sir. To be a part of something as historic as this, serving with someone so capable... in case you can't tell, I'm very excited to be a part of it, sir."

From the helm, Chipper had spun about, sardonically amused by the display. "Office rat, aren't you, Lieutenant?"

Jessie regarded the helmsman, confused, "Office rat?"

Marshall was quick to interject. "No picking on the greenhorn, Flight Lieutenant. That's _my _job."

Chipper again returned to the helm, no doubt still smiling. "Understood, sir."

Jessie appeared to have already forgotten about the helmsman. "May I ask where my quarters are, sir? The VI gave me directions, but I don't think it led me to the right place."

Marshall's eyes narrowed in thought, until he realized that Jessie might not quite... understand... what ship bound life entailed. "Have you ever served outside of High Command, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir." Jessie confirmed, earning an evil laugh from Chipper which Marshall ignored.

"Come with me then Lieutenant."

* * *

><p>"I don't understand, sir. This was where the VI directed me."<p>

Marshall keyed entry on the interface to the door's left, opening the door and revealing a bunk room, complete with four such bunks, two on the port and starboard sides, and four footlockers on the aft.

"You're lucky Lieutenant. You're the first one here. You get first pick of coffin." Marshall explained. "I'd personally recommend the top bunks. Better air flow up there."

Jessie, meanwhile, had gone catatonic. The excited trembling was gone; what little color had drained from her face and her pupils dilated. "I... I have to _share _a room?"

Marshall nodded, "And most likely a coffin with one of the off-shift crew. Space is a premium on ships, Lieutenant, even the big cruisers and carriers, and much less a frigate like this. The only people who get their own rooms are the command personnel."

Jessie squeaked in fright as a response.

Marshall gently patted her on the back. As teasing as it was, he kinda felt for the girl, who likely never considered ship life, and went into daydreams in class whenever it came up. "You'll get used to it, Lieutenant. I promise."

She took her first nervous steps into the room, and identified the footlocker with her nameplate. "I... I hope so... sir."

Marshall knew the only thing that would help Jessie was time, so he left her to her devices and she morosely started unpacking. He really needed to unpack himself.

* * *

><p>After unpacking, Marshall had evening mess with Captain Tajmadeen and Smoke, then retired to his quarters after stopping by the <em>Iwo Jima's <em>galley to grab some tea.

Peppermint tea was really more of a morning beverage, rather than late evening, but it was the only type the galley had, so he was rather stuck with it. Taking a sip, the sharp taste was a bit of an insult to his evening taste buds, but they could deal with it.

Finally, he got notice that his communication request had gone through, and the holographic terminal on his terminal flared to life.

"Hi, Daddy!"

Kelsey's face appeared on the comm in his chambers. Marshall had promised to talk to his daughter every day, and was quite pleased with himself that he was able to keep that promise for at least the first night.

Marshall put down his mug, sat down at the desk, and addressed the girl on the other end of the communication. "Hey, kiddo. How's Aunt Marie and Uncle Roger?"

"They're good! Uncle Roger's grumpy that he has to take me to school, but he's good otherwise!"

"Getting your schoolwork done?"

Kelsey scoffed. "Like Aunt Marie would let me get away with _not _doing it. I tried to tell her you only made me do homework three times a week, but she didn't buy it."

"Well, you gotta get the work done if you wanna be a smart girl like mommy was."

"And if I wanna be a strong guy like my daddy. I know."

"That's my girl." Marshall said with a warm smile. There was a short silence. "Although, I'm jealous of you. Your room is bigger than mine now."

"Maybe you'll listen when I tell you mine is too small next time!"

"Not likely, kiddo." Marshall replied.

Their conversation was interrupted by the monotone droll of the VI, cutting into the comm. "Captain, you have received a non-priority message from High Command. It is recommended you reply at your earliest convenience."

Kelsey's face appeared back onto the display as quickly as it had been taken off. "Sorry, kiddo. Message from the brass."

"That's okay, daddy. Remember what mommy said?" Kelsey then tried to mimic her mother's remarkably tuned alto, with enough success that it tugged on Marshall's heart. "A soldier's work is never done!"

It didn't help that Kelsey was starting to demonstrate as she got older that she had inherited her mother's voice. Marshall then found himself looking at the flashing light on his terminal, and the soulless VI that had drawn his attention to the message, then got a bolt of inspiration.

"Hey, kiddo. I got a request for you."

"Okay!"

"I'm going to have to repeat some things back to me. Try to speak as clearly as you can. I need a nice good sound sample..."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Smoke activated the VI shortly after stepping out of the shower. He had to get used to using it, as his daily planning was much more strict serving as a ship's XO, and there was absolutely no way he was going to remember all the timetables and responsibilities he had without using the VI.

He was toweling off his hair once the system loaded, and what he expected to be the monotone droll instead quite happily chirped, "Good morning, Commander Takei."

Smoke had heard that voice. He knew that voice. That voice should not be _here_. "The hell...?"

He turned to face the projection of the VI. As he had suspected, it was now much shorter, and the skin programmed into the slender form of Kelsey Brasser. "May I present you with the ship report or your duty schedule for the day?"

The voice and face of Kelsey speaking the words of a programmed ship VI was a little more than Smoke was able to take.

* * *

><p>Chipper rubbed her ears after the Commander's howling scream literally bled through the deck below and to the helm. "Good grief, who needs a ship comm when we have the Commander?"<p>

Marshall laughed at the quip, shaking his head as Smoke appeared on the bridge, using the emergency stairs rather than wait for the elevator. He pointed an accusing finger at Marshall, and said, "Why?"

Marshall turned to Smoke, and said smugly. "Why... what?"

"Why is your daughter our VI?"

"Because I wanted her to be."

Smoke shivered. "The things that thing says should never be said in Kelsey's voice."

Chipper defended her captain's decision. "I think she's cute."

"She's a hundred times more adorable in person." Smoke countered. "That doesn't mean I want her giving me the off-shift report when I wake up in the morning."

"Deal with it, Commander." Marshall answered, sporting an unrepentant smile. "The VI stays as is." He stood from the captain's chair, smoothed out his dress reds, and declared, "In the meantime, now that you're up and running, Smoke, you have the bridge. Some more of our crew arrived, and I wasn't able to greet them because I was stuck rubbing elbows on Solar Sync. I will return as soon as I am able."

* * *

><p>The lowest deck of the <em>Iwo Jima <em>was the heart of the ship. Engineering and the Armory were down here, along with the shuttle bay. One flight of stairs led to the maintenance sub-deck. It was where the dirty jobs were done. It had the smell of gun grease, solder, and electrical equipment. Smoke was more into this part of the military life than Marshall was, but the Captain understood its necessity at the very least.

He took the first left after the elevator stopped, towards engineering. The chief engineer was already at his station, looking over all the little details before he gave the green light to break dock and begin their expedition.

"Lieutenant-Commander Toole." Marshall said in greeting. "Why am I not surprised to see you here?"

Lance spun about sharply on his right heel, saluted, and replied. "Sir. I know more about this core and drive system than anyone without several doctorates in propulsion science and theory. I've built and disassembled and rebuilt damn near every prototype of every bit of technology on this ship. Had the O-9 chosen anyone else, I would have questioned their decision-making."

"Not lacking in confidence, are you LC?"

Lance shook his head. "Have to. Indecision gets people dead. Mistakes get people dead. I have to be wholly confident in my work, and the crew has to have that same confidence in me. It's even more important when you consider there aren't going to be any rescue missions if I blow one of the Mobius Cores."

Marshall blinked. "Did you say _cores_? As in... more than one?"

"Yes, sir. Seven, to be exact."

"I thought the problem with these things was that they eventually produce too _much _power. Why would we have _seven _of the things?"

"Six of them at all times are in an inert state, not even mounted to the transformer. This is fairly new technology sir. If the core has to be jettisoned, the last thing we need is to be out in the wild black yonder without a power source."

Marshall conceded the wisdom there with a deferring nod. "That would make sense."

Lance shifted nervously on his heels before requesting, "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

"This crew needs total confidence in their commanders as well. Having you and the XO without any experience commanding a ship is... troubling... to say the least. I know you are required ship training as part of the O-7 process, but training and actual experience are two very different things."

"Lieutenant Commander, I have as much training in deep space as every other ship bound captain in the fleet." Marshall answered, "Which is to say, none. The day to day duties are not _that _difficult... anything that the career ship rats would have on me are nil once we break Reticuli Alpha's gravity well."

"I suppose that's fair enough, sir." Lance acknowledged, "But... I also was privy to your personal records that many on this crew likely did not..."

"Personal records are just that, LC. _Personal_." Marshall warned, his voice turning sterm. "And that is _not _a direction I will go with you. Am I clear on this?"

Lance saluted respectfully, "Yes, sir. And I did not intend to sound accusing, sir."

"I am fully aware as to my responsibilities, and the consequences of falling short. You're not the only one that needs that confidence, LC."

"Perhaps so." Lance said, appearing duly chastised.

"I'll let you get back to work, Lieutenant Commander." Marshall said, trying to dispel all the anger from his voice, even as it lingered in the back of his mind. Lance was trying air justifiable concerns. Letting that get to him would only prove those concerns to be valid. "Still need to stop in and greet our Armory Chief. Forward the green whenever you're ready."

"Aye aye, sir."

Marshall left Engineering, and went straight through the intersection that he had turned left previously. This led to the Armory and Shuttle Bay, and where the final member of his essential officers had taken up his post.

"Captain on the deck." Said officer ordered to the pair with him in the armory, once he heard the armory door slide open and Marshall step across the threshold. All three came to attention and saluted. "Lieutenant Tolstoy Valanov, sir. This is Ensign Larisa Grimes, and Ensign Patrick O'Carter."

Marshall ordered them out of attention. "I take it you're the Armory Chief, Lieutenant?"

Lieutenant Valanov was an older man, Marshall guessed, probably in his mid forties, judging from the beginning signs of wrinkles and roots starting to betray a hint of gray.

This suspicion was confirmed. "Yes, sir." Tolstoy answered. "Seventeen years of service as Armory Chief for six different oceanic and zero atmospheric vessels. Four combat valor awards and twelve missions during the Oceanic War. You know that conflict quite well, as I understand."

"I do." Marshall answered simply, his inflection hopefully relaying that he wasn't particularly keen on discussing the topic. "Glad to have you aboard, Lieutenant."

"Glad to be aboard, sir." Tolstoy answered. "Although, I have to know. The cutest VI in the world greeted me when I boarded this morning. She wouldn't happen to be a relative of yours?"

Marshall laughed, glad to hear that others shared his opinion. "My daughter. Kelsey."

Tolstoy nodded with a hint of laughter. "She reminded me of my middle child. A very precocious girl, although I doubt the VI does her true justice."

Marshall's right eyebrow cocked in query. "You have children?"

"Three." The lieutenant answered, pleased by the question. "Two girls and one boy." He gestured to his omni-tool, and asked, "May I?"

"Of course."

Ensign Grimes rolled her eyes, and muttered, "Oh, here we go..."

Both officers ignored what they both decided was jealous grousing, Marshall siding up close to the lieutenant as the omni tool flared to life. Tolstoy pointed to the girl in the center of the three. "That is Mirka. She is twelve, currently, and every bit of a handful, if my dear one is to be believed. The one to her right is Natasha. She is sixteen. I promised her I would teach her to drive a hovercar." With a slight laugh in spite of himself, he added, "That... didn't exactly happen."

Then he pointed to the youngest, to Mirka's left. "And that is my boy, Valan, like his grandfather. Perhaps it is a bit, overly traditional of me, but to finally have a son meant a lot to me." Then, his finger drifted to the woman above them, a rather tall, slender woman with a reach that went around all three children, her smile as bright as all three put together. "And that is my beloved Natalya. She is the strongest woman I know. Damn near has raised our children by herself... I've been stationed on warships most of my career, you see."

"I understand that. I was assigned to various places unsuitable for children for much of Kelsey's earlier years myself."

"Your wife must be as strong as my Natalya."

Marshall fought back the memories as much as he could. "She was a Marine. She's... no longer with us."

Tolstoy frowned, "Divorced, or..."

The lieutenant's question died off as Marshall shook his head. "She died on the last day of fighting in the Oceanic War."

"Oh. I am sorry." Tolstoy said. "The decision to take this conscription must have been even harder than it was for me. Do you have other family?"

"A sister. She's watching Kelsey for me."

"It is good to have family."

Marshall nodded. "It is." Trying to change the subject, he asked, "So, you anguished over this assignment as well, did you?"

Tolstoy said, "Absolutely. I had planned to take a year leave before my final two-year tour when this assignment was dropped into my lap. I was _this close _from turning it down..." he held index finger and thumb less than a centimeter apart for effect, "when my kids damn near _ordered _me to take it."

Marshall laughed, "Kelsey did the same thing to me."

"Then here's to hoping that our children are wiser than we."

"Here here!" Marshall cheered, giving the armory chief a slap on the back.

He grinned impishly, and added, "It was not all sacrifice, though. High Command decided to cut me a deal; once I complete this expedition, they will consider my twenty years of enlistment complete."

Twenty years of service was a big deal in the Nimea Military. It gave you full retirement benefits and full lifetime health care for not just the serviceman, but the immediate family as well. "Well, aren't you making off like a bandit?" Marshall teased. "Get to make history _and _get bene's two years early?"

"I'm a shrewd negotiator. It's a skill you gain after three children."

Smoke's voice cut through the comm system. "Captain; first of all, just want to demonstrate to Flight Lieutenant Dean that I _can indeed _use the comm. Second of all; Lieutenant Commander Toole gave the green light for Engineering. We are green across the board, and Solar Sync has reported they are ready to drop the docking clamps."

"Understood." Marshall answered. "Let Solar Sync know that I am returning to the bridge, and we'll be clear to proceed once I take the chair."

"Copy that, Captain. See you upstairs."

* * *

><p>Marshall took a deep, steadying breath as he took his seat in the captain's chair. The rest of the bridge crew had assembled, studiously addressing their assigned tasks as the <em>Iwo Jima <em>prepared for its maiden jump.

He tried not to think of the hundred thousand different things that could go wrong, and leave the entire crew in a half light-year streak of blood in open space. He forced himself not to think of the very real possibility that the core shut down procedure would fail... or that they were relying on one hundred year old comm buoys to deliver accurate telemetry data. Or that they actually had no idea what was waiting on the other side even _if _the Needlepoint Drive led them to their proper destination.

All his efforts to not think about what could go wrong was, of course, _causing _him to think of what could go wrong... at least until he was saved by Captain Tajmadeen.

"Captain Brasser, we are releasing the docking clamps. You should be in free space in seventeen seconds." The commanding officer of Solar Sync Station declared. "Good traveling, and Godspeed."

"Thank you, Captain. I'll communicate once we have reached our first destination."

"Copy that. Solar Sync out."

Marshall didn't feel any movement from the ship once it was freed from the station's dock; most likely because if anything, the _Iwo Jima _was the more massive of the two bodies, and that Solar Sync would have to make corrections.

He went through the stations one more time to confirm that they were ready to take this first jump. "Lieutenant Commander Toole, what's the read on the core and drive?"

"Operating at ninety-seven percent efficiency, sir. Well within the allotted margin of error."

"Lieutenant Dean, are we getting a clear connection with the beacon orbiting Ramses?"

"Yes, sir. Loud and clear." The pilot announced. "Gathering telemetry data... plotting course... getting positive response from the drive... we are good to go."

"Begin needle, Lieutenant."

Smoke had one more quip as he leaned back in his chair, "Ya know, we are all gonna look pretty damn silly if we pop into the Savir system, and there's a whole colony of people wondering where the hell we've been for the last hundred years or so."

Marshall laughed at the thought, even as both of them knew it was highly unlikely. "I'd actually like that scenario, Commander. It would make our jobs a hell of a lot easier."

He looked out towards the main view screen, where the rippling of space roughly ten thousand kilometers ahead served to demonstrate the boundaries of the forming gravity well. Soon, the _Iwo Jima _would cross what was effectively the event horizon, the point where only a burst from the ship's traditional FTL drives would be sufficient to break the wormhole's grasp.

"Wormhole is stable, sir." Lance informed from the bridge, "Pings across the needle are clear."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Commander." Marshall acknowledged. There was no putting it off now. "Take us in, Lieutenant Dean. You know what to do, I'm sure."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"I dunno what I was expecting... but this ain't it."

Smoke was referring to the view from inside a wormhole generated by the Needlepoint Drive, or more accurately, the lack thereof. There was literally nothing but blackness from every window, porthole, or viewscreen.

"Outside of this ship is a gravity well so dense, not even light is escaping." Lieutenant Dean informed, her eyes focused intently on the helm to make sure that the _Iwo Jima _was still following the "needle", the programmed line that led to the other side of the wormhole. "The only reason we're moving forward is thanks to the FTL drive."

Fortunately, this first jump was a fairly short one, as the more familiar panorama of stars burst from what appeared to be a single point, and soon filled every viewing angle that had been black just fractions of a second before.

"That was the fastest forty-five minutes of my life." Smoke commented. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

Jessie spoke up from her comm station, and said, "Relativity, sir. Once we entered the wormhole, space and time, and the passing of both, changed from our perspective. What was largely a blink of an eye for us was in fact near forty-five minutes for the rest of the galaxy."

"Uh huh." Smoke answered. "There's not going to be a quiz on this later, is there?"

Marshall cut off the banter, "Can you confirm our location, Lieutenant Dean?"

"Thirty thousand kilometers above the surface of Ramses in the Savir System, sir. The Old Alliance comm buoy is in fact just a handful of miles below our feet." Chipper answered. "Syncing up our time with Solar Sync Station... done. As expected, we are forty three minutes and sixteen seconds behind."

"Shall I send word that we have reached our destination safely?" Jessie asked.

Marshall nodded, "Yes, Lieutenant Michal." Moving to his comm, he checked in with Engineering. "Lieutenant Commander Toole, what's our status?"

"Green on all boards, sir. The jump went without a hitch." Lance replied. "Mobius Core fail-safe protocols kicked in on queue, and we are currently on stored power.

"Copy that, LC." Marshall then turned back Jessie. "Lieutenant Michal, once the message to Reticuli is sent, start pinging general broadcast signals to the planet."

Marshall doubted there would be a response, mostly because the Savir system had been close enough that if there was still something resembling civilization, signs of it would have reached Reticuli at some point in the ensuing one hundred years.

It had been a common complaint just before the Reaper War... the nearest Mass Relay to Savir was about twenty-six light years away in a neighboring system, but to try and take that relay to Reticuli sent you into the Attican Traverse and looping around to Arcturus. Some ship captains joked it was almost faster to use traditional FTL to get between the two systems as opposed to the relays.

From their position, currently on the night side of Ramses, the lack of lighting was a very powerful clue as to what they would find. _If _anything still existed down there, it was lacking even the sophistication to generate electricity in any large quantities. Thermal scans also showed nothing of note beyond the natural heat radiated by the planet.

Jessie confirmed the initial suspicions. "No response on any frequency or channel, sir."

"Bring us around to the day side, Lieutenant Dean." Marshall ordered. "Let's see what happened with our own eyes."

What was down there was to be expected. Marshall had seen video and images from other colonies (and even Earth) from the Reaper War, so he had a pretty good idea just what they were going to see. The others apparently hadn't been so diligent in their studies.

Chipper's stoic demeanor betrayed her, as she clapped a hand over her mouth as magnified images from the _Iwo Jima_'s surveying cameras were sent to the viewscreen. "Oh... my God..."

"Holy hell..." Smoke agreed.

What remained of the Savir colony couldn't even be classified as debris. The capital city of Shantung looked more like finely crushed gravel. Nothing stood above two stories, and Marshall suspected the passing of time had barely anything to do with it.

Other scans of other cities showed the same abject desolation. The Reapers had been here, and had been hellbent on making sure nothing remained outside of a handful of hints regarding the culture that had once lived there.

"Did... did the Reapers do this?" Smoke wondered out loud.

"I think that is a safe conclusion to reach." Marshall said, his hands in front of his mouth, brows furrowed thoughtfully. "I also think it's safe to say we're not going to find any signs of sentient life."

"Sir, message from High Command." Jessie announced. "They are requesting a survey team be sent down to explore what would have been the city hall of Shantung for anything that might have been spared."

Marshall nodded, "Tell them message received. However... I don't think Shangtung will give us anything. The Reapers, from what we know of them, targeted capitals and high population centers first. If we find anything, it's going to be in smaller cities, away from the bulk of the settlements, areas that the Reapers would not have attacked right away."

A rendering of the planet popped up on the console to his left, and he started looking over the data as it was being gathered by the ship's sensors. Finally, he pointed to one on the planet's southern hemisphere, right along the antarctic circle. "What about that one? Do we have any information on it?"

Jessie was quick to try and gather the information in question. "Old Alliance records... call it Honshi. Mostly for fishing and distribution, a handful of processing centers were claimed... not much else."

"That's where we'll go." Marshall decided. "Commander, you're with me."

Smoke blinked, "Wait, you think we're _both _going? There's no telling what's down there, and you want the two highest ranking officers to go?"

"High probability of nothing." Marshall retorted. "But assuming there _is _something long forgotten down planet-side, who else on this crew is more qualified to handle it?"

Smoke processed this, and relented. "Good point."

Marshall was then to his comm. "Lieutenant Commander Toole, I need you up on the bridge. You have the bridge while the Commander and I lead a surveying team."

"Understood, sir." Lance acknowledged. "I am on my way."

"Ensign Mayes, you have the helm." Chipper ordered, transferring control to the secondary station, and standing up. "I'll get the shuttle prepped for flight, sir." She said, saluting Marshall, and taking swift strides to the elevator.

Smoke and Marshall followed her down to the fourth deck, the flight lieutenant moving onto the shuttle bay while they stopped at the armory. "Ensign Grimes, O'Carter... gear up, you're going planetside with the Commander and I." Marshall ordered, already moving to his armory locker. "You too, Lieutenant Valanov."

"Yes, sir." The armory chief said, gesturing to the ensigns. "You heard the captain. Suit up!"

Marshall had opened his weapons locker, and paused momentarily at its contents. He had not "suited up" since the skirmish that cost Kelsey's mother her life. He wasn't worried about rust; he had maintained his qualifications even serving as an academy professor... it was just another scar on his soul that he needed to address.

Unbuttoning his dress jacket, Marshall shrugged out of it, and hung it on the convenient hook on his locker. Meanwhile, Smoke peered over the door, whistled, and said, "Wow, you _have _been keeping in shape."

"Mmm hmm." Marshall answered absentmindedly, stepping out of the uniform pants, and finally pulling out the pieces of his armoring. Even after six years, the pieces of gear felt natural, like a second skin. It was both a comfort and a worry.

The armament was also carefully selected, mirroring Marshall's preferred weapons during his active combat days. The largest piece was surprisingly light for its size, the M-93 Recluse, originally based of an Old Alliance sniper rifle, it was modified for matter charges and redesigned several times to reduce its weight and recoil yet maintaining the power to puncture a tank's armoring. Marshall had personally proven that true when he holed a Sedin battleship's engine... through its hull.

The M-19 Thresher was his sidearm, and his choice when dealing with more mid-range combat. Most didn't like its slow firing rate, but Marshall found the precision suited him. It was best in a steady hand, unfazed by the haze of war. Most were surprised to see that little gun cutting 2 centimeter holes through the helmets of the sturdiest combat armor.

Then, finally, while seemingly archaic, was the wakizashi, in fact the same one that he had used throughout the course of the Oceanic War. The specialists in his classification normally preferred the longer katana, but Marshall found the speed and precision the shorter, lighter blade offered to be far more deadly.

He slung the sheath's strap over his left shoulder, the strap cinching tight over his chestplate. Ensign O'Carter noticed the weapon, and asked incredulously, "A sword... sir?"

Smoke jumped to Marshall's defense. "In your captain's hands, I have not seen a deadlier weapon anywhere on Reticuli. I could give you a rocket launcher and 500 meters, and I _still _wouldn't bet money on you."

"It's fine, Smoke." Marshall chided solemnly. "Hopefully, I'll never have to prove your boasts." He turned about to see the rest of the team in question, and noticed something out of place. While Tolstoy was ready and geared up, the two ensigns were still in their skivvies, looking nervously at their standard Nimea Military issue armoring. "Is something wrong, Ensigns?"

"It's nothing, sir... it's just... red."

Tolstoy picked up on their concerns, and slapped his forehead. "Oh, right. Don't worry, kiddies, I stashed away some... non-regulation gear for the both of ya. I just forgot to load it into your lockers. If that doesn't bother the Captain." He looked over Marshall's way with a nervous smile.

"As long as it functions, it could bear Sedin's navy blue for all I care." Marshall answered. He was more than used to members of his Black Ops teams using their own gear rather than standard issue, and saw even less reason to get hung up on now.

Smoke, however, was a little bit confused. "I don't get it. What's the problem with red now?"

"Bit of a superstition that was carried over from Earth and the Alliance." Marshall explained. "Ensigns don't wear red when going onto an unknown planet. It supposedly invites death. I'm honestly surprised it's hung on all this time. "

"See, _this _is why I don't like being ship bound. You get some _crazy_ going on in here."

* * *

><p>The view from surface level wasn't much better than it was from orbit. It only gave Marshall and his survey team a different angle to see an apocalyptic wasteland.<p>

Marshall hopped off the shuttle, followed by Smoke, Tolstoy, and the two ensigns. "Stay here, Lieutenant Dean." He ordered, "I'd rather not stay here any longer than we have to."

Chipper didn't look like she exactly _liked _the order, but accepted it. "Very well, sir. Don't... get lost... or something."

"Fat chance of that." Smoke noted. "I could watch a dog run away for three days here."

Smoke wasn't entirely kidding. The entire city had been pounded flat into something roughly resembling gravel. "I've seen videos of what the Reapers can do... but to see it... firsthand... you're just never ready for this sort of thing, are you?" He said.

Marshall agreed, even if his voice didn't show it. "Being the first witnesses to a genocide on a planetary scale is _never _something you can prepare yourself for." He focused on his comm, and transmitted to his ship. "Iwo Jima, am I transmitting?"

"Yes, sir." Jessie answered. "Video and audio relay from your HUD is crystal clear. Should I stream this to High Command, sir?"

"If you want." Marshall answered. "There's not much to see."

Ensign Grimes cut in, pointing over Marshall's shoulder. "I wouldn't say that, sir."

Marshall followed the ensign's outstretched arm. Roughly five kilometers to the north, along the coast, some buildings appeared to be still standing. Marshall had chosen this location because scans had shown that the destruction hadn't been complete. From his vantage point on the ground, he now knew _why_.

It was laying on its side, partially buried by rubble, likely from the buildings it had crashed into in its fall... and why they hadn't seen it from orbit.

"Is that what I think it is?" Smoke asked rhetorically.

"If you think that's a Reaper, then yes."

Smoke dropped his head, cringing. "Damn it." He looked up to see Marshall already on the move, towards the hulking beast of destruction. "Hey! Where are you going?"

Marshall stopped only long enough to address the team. "There's a dead Reaper laying in front of us, and you're not the slightest bit curious about what killed it?"

"And we know it's dead... how?"

"Because if it was generating any signs of activity, our sensors would have picked up on it."

Smoke was not eager to follow his captain towards that... thing. "Just the possibility that it's dead is enough for me."

"I doubt High Command shares your lack of interest." Marshall retorted. "Now move out."

Smoke complied, though not happily. "I shoulda stayed with that glorified border patrol..."

Marshall remembered what had been said about Reapers... how they had a "feel" to them, how just the mere proximity to one sent claws into your brain. How they subtly manipulated the organic brain on the chemical level, causing fear, anguish, despair, and eventually submission and obedience. Whether that was actually something the Reapers did, or was merely ghost stories to explain the deep seated fear of the unknown prevalent among the vast majority of civilization was not something Marshall could answer.

What he could say was that he had no such feelings the closer his team got to the dead Reaper, and even Smoke's trepidation began to ease as the distance closed and he could see that not only was the monstrosity very much dead, it had been dead for a long time. Plants don't just start growing around and inside something that's about to get up any time soon.

"Commander, take Grimes and O'Carter further north." Marshall ordered. "Start scanning for any potentially functional electronics. Look for recording devices primarily. Even if it's without power, we might be able to salvage it."

"Understood." Smoke said, grateful for the opportunity. Even if the Reaper was pretty obviously not going to rise up and start indiscriminately killing, that didn't mean Smoke wanted to be anywhere near the thing. To the ensigns, he said, "Let's get gettin' on."

"Lieutenant, start moving to the east side. I'll go west. See if you can't see anything that might have killed this thing."

"Aye aye, sir." Tolstoy replied, turning about. If he was as rattled as Smoke, he wasn't showing it.

Marshall began his examination, going west, towards the "top" of the monster. Tales of the Reaper's toughness was clearly not exaggerated, as there was no signs of damage beyond minor weapon scoring, and it would have _had _to have taken more than a few shots by the time it keeled over. There were no discernible dents, nor hull cracks outside of where plant life had worked its way between hull plates and were slowly spreading them apart.

"Videos do not do just how damn big these things are justice, do they?" Tolstoy asked, his voice coming over Marshall's comm.

"This was most likely a destroyer." Marshall replied. "Reaper capital ships could be as much as twenty times this size."

"I don't think I ever want to see a capital ship, sir. Alive _or _dead."

"You and me both, Lieutenant."

The captain went as far as he could go, and saw nothing to indicate what might have served as a kill shot. Perhaps there might have been something among the part covered in debris, but Marshall wasn't exactly motivated to start digging through the rubble to find what he suspected would be nothing. Marshall wasn't sure if a Reaper could have a stroke, but this was probably what it would look like.

The inspiration hit him like a bolt of lightning. Patching into the _Iwo Jima_, he said, "Have Ensign Clarke run a scan for electromagnetic fields."

There was a long silence, before Jessie spoke. "Sir! You're right! There's a very slight magnetic force radiating from the Reaper... corpse. It _is _consistent with what would be a high energy electromagnetic pulse."

Lance's voice cut into the conversation. "Sir, if I may. It's a good theory, but judging from the data we have, an EMP capable of completely shutting down a Reaper would be on par with the MEMO weapon we developed nearly a century ago. An EMP of that magnitude would have everything magnetic in roughly a thousand kilo radius humming with that same field. We aren't getting that. It's specifically located to the Reaper. Nothing else."

"Are you saying it's something the Reaper is doing? A still running system?"

"Possibly... perhaps a self-destruct system in a way... but I suppose that doesn't make much sense, either."

At that point, Smoke's voice cut in. "Ghost, we might have found something."

"Hold that thought, LC." To the Commander, Marshall opened the channel. "What have you got, Smoke?"

The Commander sounded cautiously optimistic. "We found it on... some remains. It's an old Omni-Tool memory module. It's a bit beaten up, and I can't promise there's anything good on it, but scans tell us it is at least minimally functional."

"It's a start." Marshall replied. "Report back to the shuttle, and we'll see what we got back on the Iwo Jima. I think we've found all the answers we're going to find at the moment."


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: Some may have noticed that the rating of the story has changed to "M". This is due to the fact that from this point on, there will be some occasionally strong language that I don't particularly want to have censored or filtered. That's pretty much the long and short of it._

**Chapter 7**

Not surprisingly, a century neglected memory module didn't have much to provide. While Smoke was right that it was "functional", and that Lance was able to at least piece the software coding together so that it actually... functioned, there wasn't much that could be done to salvage whatever data had been stored.

"Well, I've done all I can." Lance declared, bringing the module and his findings to the bridge. "Ninety-seven percent of the data was beyond all hope of saving, and of the remaining three percent, it's largely disjointed to the point where there's no context, or contains trivial data that means nothing to us."

"Such as?" Marshall asked. He'd prefer to be the one to decide what was trivial or not.

"A birthday party, from what it seemed." The chief engineer replied. "Perhaps intriguing purely on a anthropological level, but not exactly pertinent to our mission."

Marshall slumped back in his chair. "Wonderful."

Lance offered a small glimmer of interest. "However, there _are _fragments of video that record the Reaper's attack on the city. Like the rest of what I was able to recover, it's more a series of disjointed still images rather than motion capture... and doesn't give us anything of use... well, I'll let you see for yourself."

He transferred the salvaged information from his Omni-tool to the _Iwo Jima's _systems, and set it to play back on the main viewscreen on the bridge. Any other work on the bridge stopped as all attention turned towards the display.

To call it anti-climatic would have put it mildly. It was exactly as Lance had explained, a jarring mish-mash of static and skipping between garbled and damaged short bursts of video, detailing what anyone who remembered human history had seen in much higher fidelity. What was missing from the recovered data the crew could fill in from their own memory... the crab-like walk... the deep bass reverb of its roar... the devastating power of its hyper-accelerated liquid metal main cannon...

But what differed from all the other videos the crew had seen, was how it ended. After a particularly jumpy stretch, even for the normal quality of the video, there was a brief moment of continuous playback which showed the Reaper go dark, and topple. Shortly before it would have collapsed into its final resting place, the video came to an abrupt end.

"Well, that told us absolutely nothing." Smoke said with a frown.

Marshall, however, was silent, unmoving, having seen something in the mess that no one else did. "Go back." He ordered, "To that mess just before the Reaper fell. Take it frame by frame if need be."

Lance complied, clicking the video through every salvageable frame once he had reached the point his captain had designated. And eventually, everyone saw what Marshall had caught.

Three frames to be exact, distinct in that all three were bathed in an orange-red glow, the first so dense that the color was near opaque, with the later two faded.

"How the hell did you catch that?" Smoke asked in disbelief. Unlike the rest of the crew, he knew Marshall wasn't... normal... by any stretch of the imagination, but hadn't thought Marshall's talents were quite _that _fine-tuned.

"Lucky, I guess." The captain answered, still unmoving. "What is that?"

Lance shrugged, "Could be anything. Could be corruption in the data. Could be reflected light from the Reaper's cannon. Could be something after the fact tainting the image. There's really no way of knowing from what little we have to go on."

Marshall rubbed his forehead, rather disappointed. As faint as it had been, he had hoped that there would be _something _more than the obvious on Ramses, something that might have given a hint as to what had happened to end the Reaper War... or if it had even ended at all.

"Commander, you have the bridge." He said, slowly standing. "I need to report to High Command. I'll be in my quarters if you need me. In the meantime, plot out or next destination. Our suggested target is the Quantico Relay, but try and have secondary options prepared nonetheless."

* * *

><p>High Command seemed pleased, at the very least.<p>

"We have received all the data from the first jump of the _Iwo Jima, _as well as the feed from your survey team, and the recovered data from said mission." Chief Admiral Parker said. "Congratulations on a job well done. I trust there were no complications?"

Marshall was a hint disturbed that the admiral didn't seem to have any remorse for the obvious loss of life, even if a century removed, on Ramses. "Not with the ship itself, no." He responded. "It was... disquieting... to see what had been a flourishing Old Alliance colony reduced to that."

"While saddening, it was not unexpected." The admiral answered. "Hopefully, in the future, we will discover more as to what happened, and who was lost."

"There's probably more to be found down there." Marshall said, "We found one memory module in about thirty minutes. Given more time and more survey runs..."

"Mark Ramses as a place of note in your log, Captain." Admiral Parker interjected. "Future tours, with future ships, or even a second tour of the Iwo Jima, will deal with closer inspections of what you and your crew discover. We need you to continue on. Have you found potential jump points from your current location?"

Marshall shook his head. "We haven't actually gotten to that point yet. We were waiting to learn if we would be permitted to remain in the Savir System first."

"Proceed with your scheduled mission, Captain Brasser." Parker ordered. "Contact us when you have reached your destination."

"Understood." Marshall said, "Brasser out."

He killed the communication, stood and stretched, then left his quarters and back onto the bridge. There, he was confronted with another problem.

Chipper bore the news, spinning her chair towards Marshall as he took his seat. "Sir, we aren't getting any response from the Quantico Relay."

"You mean... the signal isn't strong enough to safely draw telemetry?"

Chipper shook her head. "No. There's no signal _at all_. We tried every frequency and every signal the mass relays were known to use, and even a few they weren't. We might as well have been pinging empty space."

Marshall tapped his chin. "So, we easily were able to gather data from a one-hundred plus year old Alliance comm buoy, but it's the mass relay that's existed for God-knows how many millions of years that's malfunctioning. Sure. Makes sense."

Chipper glared, "I know what I'm supposed to be looking for, sir. There is no transmissions of any sort coming from the Quantico System."

This wasn't terribly surprising. The Quantico System was frankly a dead end on the mass relay circuit; the only planet with an atmosphere had an ammonia-based ecology and was so depleted that even the Volus had not been terribly interested in it. The only reason anyone had gone that way was because it was the closest relay to the Savir System.

It wasn't even all that surprising that there was no response from the mass relay, either. A large of the reason that Nimea had went to such lengths to learn about and develop the Needlepoint Drive was _because _it had become clear that _something _was wrong with the mass relay network.

Before the Reaper War, Reticuli Prime had been able to gather data from two other mass relays as they launched ships through the network, not counting the one right in their home system, and had done so researching galactic drift to determine just how old the relays were. That had all stopped one hundred years ago.

There had been a small hope that the relays were dormant simply because no ships had come through, and that a query from a ship within the relay's service range would yield some sort of result. That clearly was not the case.

"I'm not keen on jumping blind with this technology just yet, if we even _can _safely." Marshall decided, calling up the VI from his terminal. "How long would it take to reach Quantico using traditional FTL?"

Kelsey's voice chirped sweetly, "From our current location, it would take three days, two hours, and thirty-one minutes, presuming optimal speed and FTL performance."

Smoke pointed at the hologram, and said, "See? Your girl should _not _be saying stuff like that!"

Marshall ignored Smoke's protests, instead addressing Chipper. "Well then, let's not waste any time, Lieutenant Dean. Plot out a course for the Quantico System, and let's get on our way."

* * *

><p>Three days through deep space gives a crew some time to get to know each other. People start sharing bits and pieces of their lives. Sometimes, it's empty banter. Sometimes a person learns something about another that leads to further questions.<p>

Which was what brought Chipper to the door of Commander Takei. Tapping the "request" button on the panel just to the right, she waited until the commander's call of "enter" both signaled her to come in as well.

He had been reading, lounging on a bed that, even after supposedly being brought in _for _his large frame was _still _too small for him to lay on without pulling his legs in. She almost felt sorry for the guy.

He put down the pad he had been reading from, and sat up. "Lieutenant Dean." The absurdly large man said in greeting. "What can I do for you today?"

"We need to talk." She said. "But... I'm not exactly sure how to bring it up."

"Well... you could try just saying it. I won't bite."

Taking a deep breath, Chipper said, "You're an Alternative."

Smoke rubbed the back of his head, and sighed. "The captain told me about your early life. He figured this might be an issue that came up. Probably should have read up on your file when he told me to."

Chipper tilted her head, "That wasn't what you were reading now?"

Smoke grinned sheepishly, and displayed the pad he had been reading; a book titled VI's and You: An Idiot's Guide. "Never dealt with a VI before. Don't know half of what they can do. But I suppose I gotta learn now. I only use tech when I have to, you see. But I acknowledge when it's necessary, unlike the lunatics."

He regarded Chipper, trying to sound comforting. "My family wasn't quite the hardcore Alternatives your parents probably were. My grandfather had served in the Second Civil War, so my family knew that sometimes you can't give peace a chance. My ma and da weren't exactly _happy _when I enlisted, but they didn't try to disown me when I did."

"I know that a lot of Alternatives are freak shows, and cross the line from rational to insane. I know it first hand, in fact."

Smoke gave some deep thought to what he was about to say next, wringing his hands and weighing just how much he could comfortably relate. "How much did the captain say about his wife's family?"

"Just that they were Alternatives and tried to strip her of her name, sir." Chipper answered. "I take it there was more to it?"

"A _lot _more. I watched the whole thing happen. Alice, that was her name by the way, and I both grew up in the Nirvana Collective. We literally grew up together. When I enlisted, she followed me into the service, and that's when the proverbial shit hit the fan. Did you know that her family tried to have her kidnapped _five times _while she was at the Academy?"

Chipper shook her head, "And nothing could be done because of the Alternative Accords. As long as her family never left the commune, Nimea's law enforcement agencies couldn't touch 'em."

"Yep." Smoke said, shaking his head. "Alice was harassed at all hours of the day and night to the point where she had to turn off her Omni-tool's comm device. Two of her parent's friends in Seattle managed to barge into where she was taking an exam, and covered her in fake blood. At least... I _hope _it was fake blood."

"She tried to move off base her final year of the academy, but had to go back because her apartment would get vandalized every other day by whichever friend of the family had the opportunity. See, Alice's grandfather and grandmother were _very _influential people. Very strictly extremist in the Alternative movement. She went into the service initially more to rebel than anything else, and that rebellion did not set well with the clan."

"Kept up even when she entered the service. Bogus complaints... charges of impropriety... harassment... it didn't stop. Those fuckers just wouldn't stop. Came to a head when a day after the captain proposed, and a group of Alternatives shot the hell out of his hovercar as they were coming back from filing the necessary paperwork."

"Why do I get the feeling this was not resolved cleanly?" Chipper asked rhetorically.

Smoke shook his head. "On the contrary, it resolved itself quite quickly and cleanly. Three days later, the captain left to 'visit family', and while he was gone, Alice's grandparents 'disappeared.' The grief completely stopped after that outside of her parents trying to legally force her to change her name; which was mostly a ceremonial protest because, well, she got married seven months later."

Chipper caught the nuances in Smoke's voice. "Are you suggesting our captain... dealt with... his wife's grandparents?"

"Officially, there is no evidence whatsoever of any foul play against the family of Moonshine and Riverdance Meredy." Smoke said with a rehearsed tone. He followed it up with a much more grim voice and assessment. "But what do I think? Yeah. I think those two are buried in a shallow grave out in the middle of nowhere somewhere, with two very precise sword slashes through their necks. I don't particularly feel sorry for them if that's the case."

Smoke tried to shake off the dark mood with a disarming smile. "Point is, Lieutenant. I know what my kind can be like, and unlike the sheep who get all defensive and try to pretend the freaks can't get that bad, I know better, and I'm not going to make any excuses for them. I'm not going to blame you for getting out of that. I'd want to get out of that if it was me."

"So... you're okay with me, sir?" Chipper asked nervously.

"I have absolutely no reason to be dissatisfied with you or your service." Smoke answered. "The personal stuff is just that, personal, and would have no bearing on your service on the _Iwo Jima_, even if I _did _have issue with you leaving your commune. My grandpa would flay the meat off my bones if I behaved that way. We're clear, as far as I'm concerned."

"Thank you, sir." Chipper said, saluting and preparing to leave.

"There _is _one thing though." Smoke said, catching her before she could retreat. He had another smile waiting for her when she turned, a nervous cringe on her face. "When we're off duty, drop the 'sir' and saluting shit. I know you ship rats are all about pretenses and proper respect for superior officers at all times, but that's not how I am. When we're off duty, call me Smoke."

Chipper blinked. "That... actually brings up a question I had. Why _does _the captain call you Smoke?"

Smoke's grin turned as broad as a Cheshire Cat, and he lunged into the duffel bag that he had stashed underneath his bed. After several seconds of rummaging around, he yelped in triumph, and emerged with a clear zip-locked bag filled with a finely chopped dark green substance. "Wanna try a little Jamaican Gold?"

* * *

><p>Smoke couldn't quite wipe that grin off his face the following morning, earning him a stern glance from Marshall as the captain took his chair on the bridge. The glare lingered for half a minute before Smoke finally asked, "What?"<p>

Marshall's retort was flat and emotionless. "I'm getting a contact high just breathing the same air as you."

Smoke's giggle was cut off when Chipper announced, "Captain, we have passed through the Quantico System Oort Cloud, and should have a visual on the mass relay in fifteen seconds."

Any further thought about any shenanigans from the night before were quickly pushed aside, especially once the visual was reached, and the crew of the _Iwo Jima _learned exactly why they hadn't gotten any response from the Quantico Relay.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Smoke, yet again, had a quip for the situation. "Now, I know I'm not a tech expert by any stretch of the imagination... but I don't think mass relays are supposed to look like that."

They most certainly were not. The Quantico Relay was more accurately the Quantico Debris Field, the remains of what had been the relay scattered and slowly separating as the gravity well from its mass fell apart due to what destructive fate had befallen it.

"Well, I suppose we know why there wasn't any response." Chipper stated. "How did _that _happen?"

"More accurately, why is there still a Quantico System at all?" Marshall said, again dropped in his thoughtful pose. When he felt several quizzical eyes fall on him, he explained, "There's only been one other confirmed case involving the destruction of a mass relay before what we're seeing here. The aftermath of that event destroyed the entire Bahak System."

He turned to Ensign Mayes, who was working the sensor array. "Are we getting any clues as to what might have caused this?"

"We are, actually... sir." The young, dark skinned ensign replied. "It's... the relay has been magnetized, sir. With a similar frequency as the one found being radiated by the dead Reaper on Ramses."

Marshall couldn't help but rub it in. "Did you catch that, LC?"

From the comm, Lance in engineering replied with a miffed tone, "I did. Maybe your EMP theory holds more water. Perhaps it was something specifically designed to target Reaper technology... but I'd have _no _idea how such a thing would be possible... or why the release of all that energy wouldn't have ripped this system a new one like it did on Bahak."

"Well, High Command is going to want to hear about this." Marshall said, getting ready to stand and order control of the bridge to Smoke.

Then Chipper stopped him. "Sir, we have something... not from the relay. Further out, and coming this way."

"Analyze."

Ensign Mayes was quick to comply, although his response was tentative. "There's a space/time warping consistent with an FTL drive. We obviously can't gain a visual because of the blue-shifting... but what first caught our attention was what looked to be a discharge trail."

"Discharging a drive core in deep space? That's dangerous." Marshall remarked.

"Captain, not necessarily." Lance interrupted from engineering. "Before we deciphered enough of the Needlepoint Drive, one possibility for alternative travel was a method of leaking the static of a hull at a gradual rate... lengthening the amount of time a ship could go without discharging. At a slow enough rate, it doesn't disrupt the FTL field, and the amount of leakage was so minimal that it was hardly dangerous."

"Can we isolate the location of this unidentified craft enough to ping it?" Marshall queried.

Chipper nodded, "Yes sir. Extrapolating position... pinging now, sir."

"Pinging" something was the process of sending out a quantum tightbeam blip of data towards a location in a preliminary attempt to make contact. Usually reserved for ID'ing whatever is on the other end, the ping rarely contained anything more than the ID of the sending craft, and a request for ID and/or status of the receiver, automatically processed by the computers systems on both sides. Marshall doubted whatever was on the other end would even know what to make of the ping attempt, but he hoped it would get their attention.

And it did. "No response to the ping, sir... but whoever it is caught it." Mayes replied.

"Why do you say that, Ensign?"

"Because whatever it is has shifted course and is headed directly towards us."

"ETA?"

"Seven minutes at their current rate of speed, sir. The UO has just entered Quantico's Outer Oort Cloud."

Marshall nodded in acceptance, and began issuing orders, both in person and through the comm. "Commander, power up barriers and weapons. Lieutenant Valanov, have missle bays 1 and 2 primed and ready to fire. Have 3 and 4 on standby. Lieutenant Dean, plot out telemetry back to Ramses to be issued at a moment's notice. Lieutenant Commander Toole, power down the Mobius Core and set us on battery power for the time being. I want to have the core ready to churn out full power in case this goes south and we have to retreat."

Various affirmations followed his orders, and the crew fell quite admirably into a well-oiled machine of the Nimean Fleet, surprising considering how little time the crew had with each other.

The lights dimmed slightly, a clear signal of the Mobius Core shutdown just as Chipper declared the needle was ready to "shoot" at his order, followed not even seconds later by Smoke's confirmation that the _Iwo Jima's _weapons and barriers were online, and Tolstoy's announcement that missles were ready and loaded. Within three minutes, the ship and its crew was ready for a fight if it came to that.

The next four minutes felt closer to four days, even for Smoke and Marshall, who had years of combat experience. The craft they pinged finally dropped out of FTL speeds, giving the crew of the _Iwo Jima _humanity's first good look at an alien spacecraft in roughly a century.

To say the visitor had seen better days would be putting it lightly. It was clearly quite old, with patching efforts blatantly visible, some of which blocked the ship's hull ID from view. Not that Marshall would have been able to identify the language anyway.

It was a lanky, yet bulbous thing, with a large central dome structure followed by a thinner tail section, carrying none of the sleekness of the _Iwo Jima_, although it was also of a cruiser's scale. Marshall wasn't sure he liked their chances if it came to a scrap.

Smoke, however, provided one assessment that would be handy if conflict was inevitable. "I'm picking up kinetic barriers sir, but no magnetic ones. Our matter cannons would rip right through that thing like it wasn't even there."

"Good to know." Marshall said.

Chipper seemed a little aghast, as if the weight of what was happening was finally sinking in. "Sir... the vessel's general design matches Old Alliance database records as likely belonging to the Quarian Migrant Fleet."

"Quarians?" Jessie chirped. "Here?"

"Their previous trajectory supports that, sir." Ensign Mayes reported. "It suggests a course that could have originated from the Perseus Veil."

"Using FTL?" Marshall remarked, skeptically. "That would be one hell of a trip."

"Well, judging from the speed they were going, it would put _our _FTL drive to shame... but yes, rough estimate would be anywhere from eight to ten years."

That drew a wry chuckle from Marshall. "Well, now we know why they were so quick to respond to our ping. We could quite possibly be the first sentient life they've gotten a whiff of in a decade." He turned to the comm station, and ordered, "Lieutenant Michal, start opening comm channels, see if they respond to one."

Jessie eagerly jumped to the task. "Aye aye, sir!" Within seconds, she yelped. "Got it! Channel's open, sir! There are some incompatibility issues between our ships, so there's no visual... audio only."

"That will suffice for now, Lieutenant." Marshall's attention focused on the comm, and he said. "I am Captain Marshall Brasser of the NMS Iwo Jima. Identify yourselves."

After a beat of silence, the reply came in mess of crackled sound, buzzes, with a smattering of something that might have sounded like coherent words occasionally bleeding through. Marshall turned to Jessie, and asked, "Lieutenant?"

Jessie was furiously tapping on her terminal, her brows furrowed. "There appears to have been a lingual shift in the last hundred years, sir. It's expected, but the changes in grammar, sentence structure, as well as new words, are causing critical errors in the translation programs."

"Can you rectify those errors?"

"Given time and a large enough sample size, yes."

Marshall didn't think either was going to happen as long as communication remained as it was. "How familiar are you with Quarian language, Lieutenant? I know you studied several of them. Was Quarian one of them?"

Jessie nodded. "Oh! Yes, sir! I was deemed passably sufficent in all major languages of the galaxy before the Reaper War."

"Then here is what we're going to do. Turn off the translators for now, and lets see just how passably they can understand _you_."

"Sir, with a lingual shift..."

"I suspect the gist of it will come across better than that garbled mess the translator is trying to spit out." Marshall interrupted. "Turn off the translator, tell them who we are, and who I am, and ask them to identify themselves."

What little color was in Jessie's face drained at the prospect, but she nonetheless complied. Coughing once, the next words that came out of her mouth were completely alien.

There was another long pause, and at least what followed was something that sounded like words, even it was incomprehensible to the crew save one, and was a very short phrase. Jessie followed, and Marshall gleaned the Quarians wanted her to repeat herself, as she said the same greeting and request from her first transmission.

"Now is this where we learn if she asked them who they are or if she just implied a canine ancestry to their mothers?" Smoke whispered, but was shushed by Marshall's index finger held up in warning.

The Quarian response was much longer this time, and actually prompted Jessie to giggle. "Lieutenant?" Marshall asked, inviting her to share the meaning of the conversation.

"Oh! I'm sorry, sir!" She yelped. "They said that they were impressed that someone could speak their language, as archaic as I'm sure I sounded. Although they think my accent is funny."

* * *

><p>The O-9 Board was more than a little surprised to hear Marshall's report, although the state of the mass relay was surprisingly not what caught their attention first.<p>

"Quarians?" Admiral Parker said. "What are they doing in Alliance space?"

"Lieutenant Michal is working on updating the translators to find out just that." Marshall answered, "I'd rather not have to speak through the Lieutenant for the entirely of any dialogue we have, something the Quarians appear to share. Although what I will say is that they seem to know they aren't on their home territory, because they readily agreed to meet _us _on the _Iwo Jima_ rather than us go to them."

"Understood, Captain." Parker replied. "However, while I know that the Quarians are not a completely _unknown _species, it _has _been one hundred years, and the Alliance never had any official diplomacy with the Quarians or the Migrant Fleet. You are to approach this meeting as a 'First Contact' scenario."

"Aye aye, sir." Marshall replied, not finding anything particular unusual about the order. Better safe than sorry. "Presuming they are not a threat, how much of our mission am I permitted to divulge? Because I am sure they'll have as many questions for us as we have for them."

Admiral Parker looked nervously towards the rest of the board. "One moment, Captain. I'm afraid we really weren't prepared for you to make contact with other humans, much less a different species, quite so quickly into your expedition. This is something we are still at some degree of disagreement on. Stay at the comm, this should not take long."

The display vanished, and Marshall leaned back with a hint of a frown. "Guess I need to play the elevator music for myself." He groused, although he did not promptly turn on said music. He just hoped that they'd give him an answer before the Quarians outside thought these humans were completely batty and not worth any further time.

It took five minutes, which while not exactly what Marshall would call "short", wasn't as long of a delay as he had been expecting. Admiral Parker once again spoke for the O-9 Board, although whether they were actually in agreement was another matter. "Captain, you are permitted to speak in general to the technology of the Needlepoint Drive and Mobius Core, but are not permitted to explain any of the components or its construction, nor are you allowed to let them see any of this technology."

That was far more leash than Marshall expected he was going to get. He didn't fault the O-9 at all for wanting to keep the technology proprietary at this point. "Understood, sir."

"Now, with that aside, we wish to discuss the mass relay at Quantico briefly. The initial data sent to us has led you to think it was some sort of EMP?"

"Possibly. Both the dead reaper on Ramses and the mass relay here are afflicted with a lingering magnetic field that is consistent with an EMP of incredible power. However, Lieutenant Commander Toole correctly notes that an EMP of that magnitude would have done a lot more than kill a Reaper. Not to mention the fact that our limited experience suggests that destroying a mass relay would do a bit more damage than what we have seen. I recommend altering our preferred course of the expedition to try and analyze more relays, to see if they shared the same fate and if more information can be gathered on what happened."

"Agreed." Parker replied. "Have Lieutenant Dean begin focusing pings on systems that were known to have mass relays. In the meantime, we wish you luck. O-9 out."

The comm ended, and Marshall shifted the channel to the bridge. "Lieutenant Michal, how are the alterations to the translator coming?"

"Just finished using it to inform the Quarians that we got it working. It's effective enough, although there might still be some bugs to iron out. Still couldn't get the video compatible, but that's a minor issue." She sounded disappointed by the last bit, but was otherwise happy with her work.

"Good job, Lieutenant. Inform our Quarian guests that we are ready to meet them. Join me and Commander Takei at the airlock."

* * *

><p>Jessie was a bit surprised when Marshall ordered her to take her sidearm off safety when she joined him and Smoke at the airlock door. "May I ask why, sir?"<p>

"High Command wants us to treat this as a 'First Contact' scenario. Assume and be prepared for hostility."

"That would explain the Commander's presence, but why mine?"

"Because in case these translators somehow flake out, I'd like to have at least _some _ability to communicate with our guests."

Jessie accepted that logic. "Aye aye, sir."

There was a thunk from the other side of the door, followed by a slight jostle of the _Iwo Jima_ that forced all three officers to catch themselves from falling. After some concern, Marshall opened the comm and asked, "Lieutenant Dean, everything square?"

"Not the cleanest docking run I've ever done, sir." She admitted. "But considering I'm not even sure these docking tunnels are entirely compatible to _begin with_, I think both I and the Quarian pilot on the other side did a damn good job. At any rate, our Quarian guests are transferred over, and are waiting in the airlock."

"Very good. Pressurize and open it up."

There was another of those periods where time slowed, as anticipation flooded the area to the point that Jessie was again trembling like a tightly strung cord. That drawn out moment was quickly forgotten once the airlock door slid open with a hiss.

There was an expectation of the Quarian people, and initially that expectation meshed with what was in front of them. The Quarians had only sent two across, one male and one female, in tight fitting body suits and stylized helmets very similar to what Alliance records had on the migrant people. That expectation was then quickly dashed when both visitors unbuckled and removed their helmets.

The realization that the three human officers were seeing unmasked Quarians for the first time in what was nearly four centuries trumped any immediate concerns. Marshall was astonished at how remarkably human the pair looked; the facial features astonishingly similar with the exception of flanged eyebrows, the upper prong of which extended to the hairline, white reflective eyes, and barely raised ridges where the ears would be on a human. The female had a full head of jet black hair and even a bronze complexion, something Marshall did not expect from a race hidden under full body covering all their lives.

The male did not have quite the same mane, much of it gone except for thin tails of silvery hair pulled back across his scalp. He was apparently the older of the two, judging from what Marshall assumed were the lines of age across his forehead, cheeks, and neck.

Jessie was finally the one to jump to action, as the wonder vanished and the worries for their guests health pushed to the top of her mind. "Oh no!" She yelped, holding up her hands in warning, "This isn't a clean ship!"

The male blinked repeatedly, creating an effect almost like a strobe light to observers. "Oh, we know." He finally said, his voice graveled and confirming Marshall's suspicions of age. "That is why we are wearing our contamination masks."

That drew attention to the thin, transparent masks that were indeed fixed over both Quarian's mouth and nose. Seeing the confusion, the male explained further. "A century on Rannoch has bolstered our immune systems to the point where we don't need full body suits to stave off disease. Just these masks suffice."

"I see that the Quarian language isn't the only information we have that's out of date." Marshall finally said, extending a hand in greeting. "Captain Marshall Brasser. Welcome to the _Iwo Jima_."

The male reciprocated, three fingers meeting five in a firm handshake. "Captain Frenz'Nimmil vas Iktomi."

Smoke snorted in amusement, drawing an angry glare from Marshall as the captain's head snapped towards the Commander in silent warning. Smoke coughed once, and said, "Sorry. Bit of a sore throat."

If Captain Nimmil caught the juvenile humor, he didn't show it. "Good thing we wore the masks then, isn't it?"

Marshall didn't take his eyes off Smoke initially. "This is my XO, Commander Ian Takei." Finally he turned away, introducing Jessie. "And you have already heard Lieutenant Jessie Michal."

"Ah yes." Frenz said, his voice turning smooth and complimentary. "I must say, Lieutenant, that regardless of your accent, you have a lovely speaking voice."

"Oh. Thank you." Jessie said, blushing vividly.

The exchange earned a derisive scoff from the female Quarian, along with a muttered growl that to Marshall's ears and the translator sounded suspiciously like, "Damned punsha in heat."

The sound did at least serve to catch Frenz's attention. "And this is my second, Lieutenant Dani'Arah."

"A pleasure." The Quarian woman said with a slight bow. For all of Frenz's compliments to Jessie, Marshall had to say that Dani'Arah had more than a pleasant speaking voice herself.

Frenz wrung his hands nervously, then said, "As forward as this may seem... there is one thing I must know that I simply cannot let wait." He looked directly at Marshall, and somehow the human captain could see the desperate hope in his counterpart's eyes. "Do you have any news of our fleet?"

That took Marshall by surprise. He looked over at Smoke, then at Jessie, who both were equally confounded. "I am... sorry? Your fleet is missing?" He finally said. He leaned into Jessie's ear, and asked, "Are you sure these things are working?"

Jessie nodded in confirmation, as Franz did the same with words. "Yes. Nearly all of our Heavy Fleet and most of the Patrol Fleet left a hundred years ago for Earth to fight the Reapers at the urging of your Commander Shepard. Did they not make it?"

Marshall then understood the momentary confusion. "I am sorry, but we would have no knowledge of that. We are from Reticuli Prime, a colony world of the Alliance. We lost contact with Earth a hundred years ago ourselves after our mass relay was shorted out."

Frenz's face dropped. "I see. Then you probably have as many questions as to the fate of your people as we do ours." He steeled himself, and forced a wan smile. "Perhaps we should pool what knowledge we _do _have and see what we can learn from each other?"

Marshall returned the grin. "We have a conference room ready for just that sort of meeting. Right this way, Captain, Lieutenant."


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: Gonna try a little addition to the story here, occasionally dropping in "Codex" entries for story elements that I may not adequately explain in the story itself._

_CODEX: THE NEEDLEPOINT DRIVE_

_Developed in 2284 by the Nimea Military Research and Development to serve as an alternative means of long range galactic travel with the failure of the Mass Relay Network, the Needlepoint Drive is the primary method of interstellar travel used by the NMS Iwo Jima._

_ Created from information found in the Reticulan Chronicle, the Needlepoint Drive crosses the vast distances in the galaxy by generating artificial "wormholes", warping space and time through two conjoining gravity wells that meet just before the wells collapse and form singularities. This wormhole greatly shortens the distance between the target and destination, allowing what would take several years using standard FTL in the course of hours. The current limit of the drive is roughly four hours per jump before the Mobius Core needs to be powered down to prevent the Core from losing integrity._

_ Typical usage of the Needlepoint Drive involves generating telemetry from data gleaned from their destination, and using that data to fire a "needle" through space via quantum tightbeam communication, and generating the gravity wells along the "needle." Old Alliance communication buoys are preferred for this purpose, as they are designed to handle the "pings" from the Iwo Jima, and are usually located far away from any potential hazards and large celestial bodies._

_ "Jumping blind", or plotting a course without the response from an endpoint, is possible. The coordinates can be programmed manually, but NMRD considers this practice extremely dangerous, as there is no way of knowing what is on the other side of such a jump, and should only be attempted in dire emergency._

_ Comparing the Needlepoint Drive to the Mass Relay system is difficult, as it is superior in some ways, yet inferior in others. While the Needlepoint technology is still considerably slower than travel by the mass relays (crossing the galaxy via Mass Relay can be done in a matter of hours as opposed to the several days via Needlepoint travel), ships equipped with a Needlepoint Drive are not bound to the "rails" so to speak, theoretically providing a significant advantage in war when moving fleets and managing supply lines. NMRD believes that this technology was first developed by the Reticulan species over two million years ago precisely for that purpose; likely during their own failed conflict with the Reapers._

**Chapter 9**

For what had to have been a severe letdown for Frenz'Nimmel and the rest of the Iktomi crew, the Quarian captain took it with considerable aplomb, listening intently to what Marshall and the _Iwo Jima _had discovered on Ramses. It was during the playback from the memory module that had been found that Marshall paused the frame at the red-orange glow he had spotted earlier.

"This is the only significant oddity we have found. We're not sure what it is, or if its even anything of note.

"It would appear we have _more _answers than you, then." Frenz said. "Because I, and all Quarians for that matter, know _exactly _what that is." He turned to his Lieutenant, and asked, "Dani'Arah, can you call up video from The Pulse?"

"Yes, sir." Dani replied, her omni-tool flashing on her forearm as she inputted commands.

"The Pulse?" Marshall asked in query.

The video spoke for the Quarians. While there were no Reapers in the playback, there were several Geth platforms, and what happened to them when the red-orange surge of energy hit them filled in the missing gaps of what the _Iwo Jima's _crew had discovered.

The Geth that were struck by the surge simply... stopped, the life ripped from them in that instant, each platform crumpling to the ground, followed by the panicked screams of nearby Quarians, some of whom ran to the lifeless mechanical husks, others panicking because Geth programs in their suits had stopped functioning.

"Is there any way this video can be copied?" Marshall asked the ship's VI. "I think our High Command would like to see this."

"Copying the data is easily done. Playback with our current programming would be impossible." The VI said cheerily. "Rendering video coding to be compatible with our programs would be necessary."

"Well, let's get that copied anyway. We'll work out the particulars later."

"Understood, Captain Brasser."

Frenz spoke again once the VI vanished. "That same pulse caused the Mass Relay in Tikkun to... I don't want to say explode, because the destruction wasn't quite as violent as that, but more like... ruptured. The Pulse ripped it apart. You did not experience this like Rannoch and Ramses did?"

Marshall answered, "No. The Reticuli Relay had been rendered inert by a large scale EMP during the Reaper War. Whatever this pulse was might not have hit us because as far as the relay network was concerned, our relay didn't exist. There was no relay path for The Pulse to follow."

Frenz absorbed the theory, and accepted it for as good as any. He took a deep breath to gather his thoughts, and said "It was also at that point that we lost communication with our fleet on Earth. Because nearly all communication was routed through the mass relays... and our quantum tightbeam systems weren't powerful enough to cross _that _much distance..."

"You were completely in the dark." Marshall said with a sad nod. He didn't want to reveal that Reticuli Prime _did _have a tightbeam connection with Earth that had _also _not yielded anything over the last hundred years. He wasn't sure he wanted to crush the hope of a man who had already been in transit for roughly a decade. "And so now you're using FTL to try find out yourself."

"It is only recently that we were able to improve the drive to the point where it was feasible." Frenz admitted. "And even with these improvements, we still have about fourteen years ahead of us. It is trying." His face brightened a hint, and he said, "Although... if you are heading the same way, and seeking similar answers... perhaps the company will make the distance more bearable."

Smoke coughed uncomfortably, and Marshall had to fight back a playful grin. He slowly turned to Smoke, and said, "What do you think, Commander? Think they're hostile and a potential threat?"

The two Quarians seemed earnestly confused by the question, and aghast at the suggestion they had come across as hostile. But before either could protest, Smoke had already answered, "Nah, I think they're alright. Why? Did High Command clear you to talk about our... advancements if they passed muster?"

Marshall finally cracked a full smile, although he was apologetic. "I do apologize. Our superiors had told us to treat this as first contact with an alien species. I suspect you have a similar protocol, even if you didn't apply it here."

Frenz visibly blushed. "Actually... we had prepared the Iktomi to drop explosive charges down the docking bridge and storm this vessel if we came under trouble. The Lieutenant here isn't even my second officer... So..."

"Well, then it's fortunate that we both came with good intentions." Marshall said, now feeling the tension that had been in the air now that it was dissipating. He decided not to rub in the fact that the Quarians plan likely would not have ended well for the Iktomi.

Smoke, however, did. "Well, that would have been a bad idea. With the firepower this little ship is packing, we would have effectively... neutered... you."

Marshall's eased expression turned angry, and he drove his elbow directly into Smoke's gut, hard enough to double over the Commander and slump him forward with his head on the table, wheezing in pain. Not for the implication of the _Iwo Jima's _weapons as much as the horrible pun.

"All understandable suspicion aside, Captain Frenz'Nimmal, I am something loathe to tell you that by the time the Iktomi reaches Earth, this ship and others soon coming from the Nimea Fleet will have taken that same trip thousands of times over."

Frenz and Dani shared an unreadable glance before the captain asked, "How... may I ask, is that possible? That would require FTL speeds far beyond anything ever produced."

"It's not FTL in the strictest sense," Marshall explained, "Nor am I permitted to discuss the specifics of this technology, but what I can say is that the current orders for this ship involves a circle tour around much of what was once Alliance space, including Earth, and will only take us at most a year to complete."

To say the Quarians were floored by this claim would have put it mildly. Frenz's jaw dropped so far that Marshall was afraid his mask would fall off. Meanwhie, Dani insisted, "That... that is not possible!"

Marshall shrugged, "You don't have to believe me. Now that we know who you are, we can make a tightbeam connection, and we'll contact you in about two hours when we reach the next location on our itinerary, which would be about a year away at the speed you were going. If we wanted to go straight to Earth..." He quickly brought up the VI again, and asked it, "How long would it take us, theoretically, to get to Earth from here?"

"A direct course for Earth would not be recommended, per NMRD recommendations, as we cannot determine a safe coordinate location for the jump." Kelsey VI chided.

Marshall rolled his eyes, even with his daughter's cuteness, he was finding the VI to be extraordinary obnoxious at times. "I know that. But assuming we did, how long would it take?"

"In this purely hypothetical scenario, assuming full functionality of the Needlepoint Drive, and optimal power output from the Mobius Core, it would take approximately thirty-one hours, and fifty-three minutes to complete the entire journey."

Marshall cringed momentarily as the VI revealed the names of their top-secret technology, but calmed himself as he realized there was no way the Quarians would exactly be able to steal or replicate said technology simply by knowing what the Nimea Military named them. "I know this may be hard to accept or absorb... but we could have news of your fleet before your ship made it to the next cluster." At that point, Marshall decided he might as well _completely _ruin the man's mission. "Although... I don't think you'll like what we find."

Marshall's voice carried enough dread that Frenz was able to decipher the implied meaning easily enough. "Had there been much of anything left of Earth... word would have eventually reached you."

The Quarian captain looked abjectedly... defeated. It was a funk that he must not have visibly sunk into often, considering how worried Dani had become, the seemingly snarky Lieutenant putting a comforting arm around his shoulders and whispering soothingly into his ear.

When Frenz finally regained his composure, he had at least resorted to a grim determination. "Nevertheless, we knew that end was the likely scenario. It is still something my people need to see, to have shown to them. We need Quarians to see the aftermath... to know _exactly _what happened." A wan smile crossed his lips. "And as much as I would love to hear that your people would willingly share this magnificent new 'Needlepoint Drive', I am neither naive nor foolish enough to expect such perfectly reasonable desire to keep it to yourselves for the time being."

He stood, as if the process of straightening would also straighten his resolve. "We would be grateful for you to pass on word of our people when you discover it, but provided we have permission to continue travel through what was Alliance space, I and the Iktomi will continue on our mission."

"Reticuli Prime, as far as I am concerned, holds no specific claim to Alliance space. You hardly need our permission." Marshall said. "I can't imagine the Nimea Parliament could reasonably make any such claim either."

Smoke scoffed, "Since when has our parliament and reasonable ever belonged in the same sentence?"

Frenz's was satisfied with that. "Thank you, Captain. When I return to the Iktomi, I will arrange for a tightbeam address for my ship be sent to yours. At the very least, the communication will be a welcome change from the lonely void of space. That there are others out here, willing to help us find answers, will be a profound boost in morale. Come, Lieutenant, let us..."

Frenz's words died off, and he had a meaningful expression towards Dani, who returned the look with confusion. "What terrible thoughts are churning in that head of yours, Captain?"

He locked eyes with Marshall, trepidation lacing his next words. "I... have a request for you that may seem very toward and presumptuous. I ask you only entertain it before dismissing it outright."

* * *

><p>The request <em>had <em>been _very _unexpected. Marshall had honestly expected the O-9 board to flat out reject it when Marshall brought the idea to them, not wanting to make that call himself. It had seemed, for a very long moment, that was the decision they were going to make... until intervention from Jonas (conveniently timed, of course) swiftly turned the tide.

It was an opportunity to make a kind gesture to a suffering people, Jonas had said. An opportunity to give the Quarians closure, and generate some good will with other species, a useful bit of currency to have as Nimea expanded their fleet and fingerprint on the galaxy as a whole. The argument swayed enough minds that they were all willing to fall into consensus.

There were considerable limitations to the offer, which the Quarians happily accepted, Frenz having expected a swift dismissal much like Marshall.

The entire exchange resolved itself and led Marshall to where he was now, approaching the airlock yet again, awaiting the transfer. On the way, he nearly bumped into Doctor Nathan Coyle, the ship doctor assigned to the _Iwo Jima_.

Marshall had actually forgotten they _had _a ship doctor until just then, a dismissal that Marshall instantly regretted. Much like everyone else on the ship, Doctor Coyle was a prominent and well respected member of his field, one of the highest sought medical opinions not just in the Nimea Military, but in the private sector as well. He was even one of the few Nimean citizens, military or no, that had special exemption to travel to Sedin, as even that country could not deny Doctor Coyle's extensive knowledge in medical advancement.

"Oh, my apologies, sir!" Nathan said. "I didn't mean to..."

Marshall held up his hand in acceptance. "Not a bother, Doctor." He gestured to the pad the doctor was holding, and said with a teasing grin. "I can see you have a bit of reading to do."

"Oh yes..." He said tiredly, although at the same time Marshall could sense the excitement in the challenge presented. "I have a lot to absorb and quickly if I am to perform my duties to my own expectations with this change. So, I beg your pardon and bid your leave, sir."

"Carry on, Doctor." Marshall said, chuckling as he stepped aside to let the doctor pass.

Another ten meters forced him to stop and cede the hall to a large dolly carrying several boxes, and led by two petty officers. They apparently did not see the captain, as neither saluted or even looked up, engrossed in their own conversation.

"So... why are we bringing this stuff on board again? We've got more food than we probably need already." The first asked.

The second huffed. "She can't eat our food, I think. I dunno exactly why, something about dextro-chararity or something. All I know is, she needs special food, and that's why we gotta take this to the galley."

There were no more interruptions, which was fortunate as he arrived at the airlock, Smoke already waiting, as the signal for the door to open was given.

Seconds later, Dani'Arah stepped across the threshhold, her back slouched forward due to the pack nearly as tall as herself slung over her right shoulder. A sidearm across her left hip and a shotgun at her right, coupled with helmet tucked under her left arm, completed a list of all the gear she was carrying. Marshall bit back a laugh; amused that packing tight and heavy wasn't a trait limited solely to human military convention.

"I apologize if I do not salute, sir." Dani said. "My hands are rather full at the moment."

"No offense taken, Lieutenant."

The Quarian nodded in thanks, then declared, "Lieutenant Dani'Arah vas Ik..." she stopped abruptly to correct herself, "vas Iwo Jima, reporting for duty, sir."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

As similar as quarian military conventions appeared on first glance, it didn't take long for both sides to discover notable differences.

Dani's eyes grew wide as saucers as she was escorted to her bunk, her voice nigh awestruck. "This... this is _mine?_"

Smoke and Marshall exchanged a smile, and Marshall replied, "Yes it is, Lieutenant. We don't have quite as many females on board, so you don't even have to share a coffin."

The quarian woman whirled about, amazed. "I... I... get my own bunk?"

"Indeed."

She spun about, to the footlockers at the far end of the room, one of which already was bearing her name. After confirming her PIN, it popped open, and she literally squealed. "This... so much _space!_ This is all mine?"

Dani stepped into the center of the room, and spun twice, arms extended, giggling happily, "I could _never _have done this on the Iktomi!" Gaining momentary composure, she asked, "Where can I find the shower?"

Smoke pointed to the aft port corner, and said. "Look right over there. If no one's in there, the door should open automatically.

Dani froze in awe for several seconds, then complied, her eyes widening again as the door slid open, the quarian girl catatonic at the sight before her. "There is a shower and lavatory. Here. Mine."

"Well... yours and the three other ladies assigned to this bunkroom, yes." Marshall corrected.

She slowly turned to the captain, radiating her pleasure even as her voice was a soft, awestruck whisper. "I love this ship."

Smoke finally let the laugh bubbling in his gut escape, and he said, "Bunking her with Lieutenant Michal was a stroke of genius."

* * *

><p>"Lieutenant Dean. I'd like you to meet Lieutenant Arah." Marshall said in introduction.<p>

Dani nervously pursed her lips, and corrected. "Typical quarian tradition is to include _both _names in formal titles, sir. It's the proper designation, especially when having crewmates from the same family is a high probability."

Marshall nodded, duty chastised. "My apologies. Lieutenant Dani'Arah. Best just to think of it as all one name, Chipper."

"Chipper?" Dani queried.

"That's _my _given name, Lieutenant _Dani'Arah_." Chipper said, putting a degree of rude emphasis on Dani's full name. To her captain, she said, "So... what is she doing here? Introducing everyone to the alien on board?"

"Actually..." Marshall answered, "Once you're done training her how to operate and read our terminals, she's going to be taking over navigation."

"Why?" Chipper asked coldly, her gaze darkening as she regarded the quarian, "Am I not doing a good enough job?"

"Of course you are." Marshall said, "Lieutenant Dani'Arah was one of the Iktomi's navigators, and so this is the best use of her talents. Everyone pulls their weight on a Nimea vessel. You know that. Besides, you've said you _hate_ navigating."

"I do. Doesn't mean I can't, or won't, do it to the best of my ability."

Marshall sighed. "Am I going to have to make this an order?"

"Most likely, sir."

"Start training her." Marshall ordered icily. "And hand over the navigation once you feel she's up to speed."

Chipper heaved a frustrated sigh. "Aye aye, sir." The frustration turned to open contempt, as she addressed the ensign in the co-pilot seat. "Mayes, move your ass. Lieutenant, sit yours down."

The dark-skinned man stood, and graciously offered his seat to Dani as Marshall returned to the center of the bridge. He had expected Chipper to give him some degree of trouble, he just hoped the Flight Lieutenant didn't take it out on Dani.

Fortunately, Chipper didn't do much more than sulk as she started teaching Dani the nuances of the _Iwo Jima's _controls and nav system. The coordinate method was different than Dani was used to (using the galactic center as the 0 point rather than the Citadel, which the quarians apparently still used), but after an hour Dani apparently found Nimea's method to be much more sensible and more intuitive. They didn't get much further than that before reprieve was given by the call to lunch mess.

"Might as well come with me, Lieutenant _Dani'Arah_." Chipper groused. "You've got the helm, Mayes. Don't rip the ship apart."

Smoke stood, and followed the rest of the first lunch crew. Marshall, as ship's captain, technically had the right to first mess, and in his own quarters at that, but often ceded that right to Smoke and other officers. It made him feel like he was engendering good will among his crew in such little ways, rather than constantly rubbing rank in their faces.

Just another one of the many ways the paramilitary branch was different than the fleet, he supposed. Of course, this proved to be the one day that taking the first mess rotation would have probably saved everyone a lot of grief.

Smoke's voice cut through the comm, and he said grimly. "Captain, you might want to get down here. We got a problem... it's not good."

Marshall hopped out of his chair, and was halfway to the elevator before he could finish asking, "What sort of problem."

"Lieutenant Michal collapsed and went into convulsions. Doctor Coyle is already here, but I think it would be a good idea if you got down here too."

* * *

><p>Marshall hit the crew deck at full speed, turning a sharp corner to the starboard side and the mess hall. Smoke had effectively cleared the area, his size and rank most likely being very compelling reasons not to rubberneck the scene.<p>

Doctor Coyle had arrived, already have settled Jessie onto a gurney still on the floor, no doubt to move her to sick bay once she was stabilized. "How is she, doctor?"

"Her esophagus is swelling shut, forcing the trachea closed. I've got a support keeping her breathing tube open, but even with that AND hemoglobin spikes, the lieutenant is not getting a suitable amount of oxygen into her system. Until I can get her breathing at a reasonable rate, I don't want to move her."

"Do whatever you need to do, doctor." Marshall said, even as he knew the advice was redundant. He straightened, and to the perimeter, where the crew in the mess hall were now lined up against the wall. "Did anyone see what happened?"

Smoke offered his view first. "The Lieutenant asked if she could jump the line in front of me. I let her. She got her food, took a bite, and wasn't even to the table when she dropped her tray, grabbed her throat, and collapsed." He then looked guilty as he added, "I should have done something, sir. I shouldn't have let her cut in line. That food didn't smell right."

"Didn't smell right?" Marshall repeated. "How so?"

"I dunno, and that's the thing. I've never smelled anything like it."

Smoke led Marshall to the rear of the galley, where a pot of what looked to be stew had been placed in the largest sink basin. Marshall took a smell, and recoiled... the odor burning his nostrils. But it wasn't the burning one would associate with heavy spices. It felt more like a chemical burn. "Goddamnit, what is that stuff?"

"I was going to ask Petty Officer Lake just before you arrived." Smoke replied. "Figured you'd want to ask the questions once you did."

Petty Officer Reggie Lake was in charge of the galley and preparation of food for the crew. He was a pleasant enough fellow, and could do some remarkable things military fare. But he had the look of a guilty man once Marshall and Smoke singled him out, and led him into the back for questioning.

"What is in that pot, PO?"

Reggie ran a hand through his blond hair, his entire body trembling and his breathing shallow. He didn't look particularly good either. "PO, once you're done here, get to sick bay." Marshall ordered, "But for now, we need to know what is in that pot."

"I... I thought I'd try and make our new crew member feel a little at home, while giving the crew a taste of some new food. So... I tried to make a stew from some of our vegetables, and some protein from the stock the quarians gave us..."

Marshall didn't even need the petty officer to finish his description. "Goddamn it. You're lucky you're assigned to KP, Petty Officer, because otherwise that's _exactly where I'd assign you for the rest of your damned career! _ Pray I don't throw you in the brig for this." He stomped past Lake and Smoke, shouting out towards Doctor Coyle in the mess hall, "Doctor, she has dextro-protein poisoning! PO Lake has got it too!"

Turning back to the galley, he mumbled more to himself, "The petty officer and the lieutenant must be among the three percent of levo lifeforms that have sensitive reactions to dextro chirality. You're damn lucky you didn't eat it yourself, PO. Or did you?"

"Little pieces." Lake admitted, although whether his shallow breathing was mostly because of dextro poisoning or panicked hyperventilation was unclear. "Just for taste. I _did_ have to put on gloves to handle the meat... it caused my hands to turn red and puffy." The petty officer held up his hands to prove the fact. "I am so sorry... I didn't think..."

Marshall erupted with such anger that it literally caused Smoke to jump in fright. "_You're damn right you didn't think! That's the problem! What is wrong with you? I know you damn well got the service orders update! Did you even bother to read it? DID YOU?"_

Lake was visible cowering, and even Smoke didn't know just how to interject. The number of times Marshall had ever went ballistic on anyone Smoke could count on one hand.

"I've had plenty of people die on my command. Hell, I've even had them die to friendly fire. But I've never had someone serve under me die_ because of what he or she ate! _And I swear to whatever God you find sacred, that if Lieutenant Michal becomes the first, I am going to dishonorably discharge you _out of the airlock!_"

Marshall jabbed a finger, trembling with fury towards the insulting pot. "You are going to dispose of that mess, then you are going to get to sick bay, and then I'll decide what I am going to do with you. Am I clear, Petty Officer?"

"Y... yes, sir."

"_THEN GET MOVING!_"

Lake dashed to his duties and Marshall stomped back out onto the mess hall, and declared, "Thanks to our galley officer, today's menu is going to consist of MRE rations. Commander Takei will be in charge of distribution, so get in line, shut up, eat up, and get back to work."

Turning back towards the galley, he said, "Commander, I'll be in my quarters, I need to report this."

* * *

><p>Dani frowned at the depressingly bland white tube in her hand. "Nutrient paste." She said, taking a deep breath and sigh. "Yum."<p>

The table jostled as a heavy weight settled on the seat next to her. "Lieutenant, I can promise you this don't taste much better."

Dani turned her head to see Commander Takei looking equally forlorn at the bar in his hand, a silver wrapper peeled back to reveal something that more resembled gravel than food. "Damn thing tastes like cardboard." He grumbled. "Probably because half of it is."

Dani had pulled down her contamination mask far enough to squeeze a small bit of the paste into her mouth, cringing distastefully. The gunk never started tasting better no matter how many times she had to eat it. How had her people _lived _off this stuff for nearly three centuries? Smacking her lips to try and clear the flavorless, textureless glob from her tastebuds, she finally asked, "How is Lieutenant Michal?"

Smoke nodded optimistically. "Once the doc figured out what was wrong, he was able to research how to treat it easily enough. She's gonna be out of commission for a day or two while her body purges the foreign stuff, but she'll live. I just hope we don't run into any more alien species in that time. We kinda need her for that."

Dani laughed in spite of herself, and took another... bite, she guessed, of paste. "I'd offer to split with you just to see which tastes worse, but I don't think we need to chance two more people in sick bay."

That drew a laugh from Smoke. "No, probably not."

Dani then became morose. "I'm sorry... if my being here has screwed things up."

"You're not at fault because some petty officer didn't read his orders and instead did stupid." Smoke replied seriously. "If you're talking about Lieutenant Dean, don't let her bother you. She always acts mean. To _everybody_. Hell, the Captain is about the only person she respects, I think. You'll be fine, Lieutenant."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He lifted his hand, the pinky finger extended.

Dani regarded the gesture quizzically.

Smoke frowned, then slapped his forehead with his other hand. "Right. It's a pinky swear. It's one way humans make promises. Kinda silly and childish, but ya know..."

Dani raised her hand, and regarded her three fingers skeptically in relation to the five in front of her.

Smoke was beginning to realize this was a bad idea. "Right... uh... how about we just say we did, and _call_ it a pinky swear?"

"Sounds good to me, Commander." Dani acknowledged, taking another bite of paste. Somehow, it didn't taste quite as bad going down that time.

* * *

><p>Dani knew that first days were <em>always <em>the toughest when in a new environment. This was true even when she was dealing with other quarians, so she had anticipated a particularly rough acclimation period when on a ship comprised entirely of a different species.

But she didn't realize just _how _tough it was going to be, especially when she decided to pay a visit to Lieutenant Michal in sick bay after being relieved from duty.

The petite red-haired woman was laying in one of the beds, a blanket pulled up to her waist, and a thick breathing mask fixed over her mouth and nose. Dani had recalled the lieutenant to be awfully pale skinned to begin with, but the gray pallor to the woman's flesh made it look even more so.

Doctor Coyle had been cat napping in his chair, jerking to awareness when he realized there were visitors. He nodded respectfully to Dani, and whispered, "I think I finally got her to rest some."

"Not really." Jessie answered, her eyes opening slowly, her voice still weak as her head slowly turned in Dani's direction. "I'm not one to sit still for very long, you see."

"I am glad to see that you are recovering, Lieutenant." Dani said earnestly. "I'd rather not have an inter-species incident on my account."

Jessie tried to laugh, even though it came out more as a wheeze. "Don't make me laugh, Lieutenant. It hurts."

"Lieutenant Michal has been largely purged of all dextro-proteins in her system, but it takes the body some time to return to its normal state after such poisoning." Doctor Coyle informed. "It would be sooner rather than later if she'd listen to my orders and sleep."

Jessie rolled her eyes, "Are quarians able to sleep on command? Because I have no idea how he thinks humans can."

"I really _am _sorry this happened to you, Lieutenant." Dani said sheepishly.

"Some good came out of it." Jessie mumbled. "If someone starts stealing snacks from your locker, you know it wasn't me."

"I thought you didn't want to laugh." Dani sputtered in between speaking and a giggle.

"_I _don't want to. _You _can, though." Jessie said. "Although, I do _insist _you call me Jessie when off duty."

"Only if you call me Dani."

The two women smiled and they both said simultaneously, "Agreed."

The tender moment was interrupted by a cold voice. "I've been looking for you, Lieutenant _Dani'Arah_."

It hadn't taken Dani long to attach that particular voice to a face. "Oh, Keelah..." She groaned, and turned about to face Flight Lieutenant Chipper Dean, the pilot standing in the open door to sick bay, her arms crossed just under her chest, narrow eyes and a sour expression. "What can I do for you... Flight Lieutenant."

Chipper took two very aggressive strides forward. "I've been wanting to say something, but didn't dare while the captain was present."

"Oh?" Dani replied nervously, her eyes darting back and forth for a potential escape route. Doctor Coyle had with surprising steath retreated to his quarters, and Jessie was looking away to avoid making eye contact.

"Mmm hmm..." Chipper said, now so close that the quarian could feel the human's breath against her cheeks.

Dani smiled, tentative, her eyes frantically trying to look anywhere but towards Chipper's glower. "What... what needs to be said that must be said now?"

With a viper's quickness, Chipper lunged, causing Dani to recoil and try to cover her face defensively. Instead, the quarian felt to warm arms wrap around her shoulders, and Chipper's lips right next to her ear. "Thank you." The pilot finally said, repeating the sentiment several times with increasing tempo.

"Thank you?" Dani finally managed to squeak as Chipper pulled away. "For... what?"

"I _hate _navigating. I am _so _glad that someone is taking that mind-numbing duty off my hands." Chipper answered, the relief nearly dribbling from her mouth. "Ugh! It is _so _droll..." She drew lines in the air and grumbled, "Let me draw lines on the map. Blech! Lieutenant, you are _welcome _to that duty."

The explanation really didn't help much. "But... you were so angry about it when the captain ordered you to train me at the station."

"Gotta _look _upset, girl." Chipper explained. "If command thinks you're willing to do, or _not _do, anything, they take that as an excuse to walk all over you. Then you find yourself assigned to seven different stations on seven different days on whatever shift they need you. But if you make everything an order... they aren't so keen to play musical chairs with you on the duty roster."

Dani didn't quite understand this sentiment. "But... to be trusted with multiple duties is a sign of respect! Or... is that not true on human ships?"

"Yeah, see how far respect goes when you're on a landing party getting your face eaten off by some rabid monster because command thinks you're swell." Chipper grumbled. "Regardless of my reasons... if you want some extra time at the nav computer... meet me on the bridge at 0500 tomorrow. We can use some of the terminals that aren't being used by the night crew. You know, get you some extra practice."

Chipper cracked such a rare smile that Jessie was astonished. "The sooner you're ready to take over, the better off I am." The pilot concluded, followed by a shrug and a nervous posture.

Dani returned the smile as warmly as she could manage. "I will see you on the bridge at 0500."

"Get breakfast before. We probably won't have time to sneak something to eat before the captain gets out of bed and at the chair to start the duty day."

"Understood, Lieutenant."

"Call me Chipper." The pilot offered. "There's too many damn Lieutenants on this ship anyway."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

It took a couple days, but eventually the fascination with Dani waned, and she stopped being a sort of ship celebrity. Dani attributed part of it to her mostly human-like features; as she really wasn't terribly exotic in appearance compared to what most of the crew aboard the Iwo Jima had been expecting. The other part was Lieutenant Michal's return to active duty.

It's possible Jessie had no idea how she had been "adopted" by the rest of the crew. Normally, the "greenhorn", as Chipper called it, was a bit scorned and given a more difficult time to "toughen them up", but even the gruff Flight Lieutenant admitted it was impossible to do that to the "kitten cute" comm officer.

Dani had to agree. It was impossible to be anything but tender and kind to Jessie, if for any reason that the comm officer was impossibly kind to everyone else on the ship, even the Petty Officer who had unwittingly _poisoned her_. She had such a genuine enthusiasm for the _Iwo Jima's _expedition, despite her loathing of the accommodations (which Dani did not understand _at all_), and her attitude was infectious.

And while Dani had no value for a stone on Rannoch as to what "kitten cute" meant, the quarian knew that Jessie was quite pretty, and very appealing to the eyes. This assessment didn't particularly bother Dani, as quarian desire towards humanity had not been all that uncommon.

Before The Pulse, quarians on pilgrimage tended to drift in the direction of Alliance space, partially because it was closer than other citadel species, and partially because of allure. The superficial similarities between the two species had not been lost on quarians, although humans no doubt missed the connection thanks to the quarian immune systems of the past requiring the full body suits that shrouded their appearance. More than one quarian entertained... dalliance with humanity, risking death to have a close encounter of an entirely different kind.

It was said that the famed Admiral Tali'Zorah had more than an innocent crush on the human Commander Shepard (the degree of returned affection still a matter of debate), and was merely the most famed example of the inter-species attraction. It was an attraction that Dani'Arah vas Iwo Jima was starting to understand.

"Hey! Dani! Eyes forward!" Chipper chided, drawing Dani's attention back to the nav console. "Now, if you have the preferred course of action set, send it to the comp, and let's see what it tells us."

Dani complied, only to have the nav screen flare up with error messages. "Ach! What did I do? What did I do?"

Chipper followed the course Dani had plotted on the display, stopping at a red circle that indicated the error. "Right there. That section did not have a comm buoy respond, so we can't jump there. Well, we _could_, but jumping blind is not something we're supposed to do, and is only permissible with an override from the person in charge of the bridge."

Chipper amended, "Now, this error isn't necessarily a problem. Sometimes we _don't _get a ping response from that far down the line, and get it as we jump closer. Normally the captain will sign off on this course, and we'll go on. But for the sake of practice, let's take a step back and try again."

Dani reprogrammed the course, the exercise simulating proper ping responses, and she sent it to the computer... only to get another flash of errors. "Rah! What did I do _this _time?"

Again, Chipper followed the path with a correcting finger. "Here. Now, in your defense, you're actually not wrong, but the nav computer is saying you are. The comp is programmed to reject any jump that is within 93% of the drive's maximum range. We _should _be able to make this jump, but Lieutenant Commander Toole wants us to go easy on the drive for now until we can determine it's _actual _limits rather than it's _theoretical _ones."

"I see." The quarian woman replied with a frown. "This is far more complicated than navigating the Iktomi."

Smoke was currently in command of the bridge while the captain was reporting the findings from their latest relay analysis. It was the commander's chortle that caught her ear, and her attention.

"Why do you do that?" She finally demanded, her annoyance causing her to forget proper address to a senior officer.

Smoke didn't seem bothered by it, because he offered no correction. Instead, he asked, "Do what?"

"You always laugh whenever I say my old ship's name. Why?"

Smoke grew defensive. "No, I don't."

"Iktomi."

Smoke snorted in amusement, his eyes narrowing as he realized he had been caught.

She turned to Chipper, sensing she would get no answers from the commander. "Why does he do that?"

Chipper smirked. "Say your full name from your old ship."

Dani blinked, but nonetheless complied. "Dani'Arah vas Iktomi?"

Another guffaw from the commander followed, which was then followed by another accusing quarian glare.

Chipper leaned into Dani's ear, and calmly explained the word for male sterilization in humans. Dani's jaw dropped, eyeing the commander angrily, and she sputtered, "You... you... _bosh'tet!_"

Smoke, rather than insulted, instead looked confused. "Okay... why didn't the translator catch that? Lieutenant Michal, is this thing still buggy?"

"I'm sure it is." Jessie replied, disinterested. "But there are some words that our language doesn't have an accurate translation for, or the word itself has too many meanings for our translator to properly determine which one is the proper one. 'Bosh'tet' is one such word."

"Really." Smoke answered, more a statement than a question.

"Indeed. The definition of 'bosh'tet' can vary considerably, depending on context, inflection, usage within the sentence, whether is a formal rebuke or casual tease, whether is being used literally or metaphorically..." Jessie gave her thought pause, especially as Smoke's eyes started to glaze over. "It really is kinda like how we use the word... fuck."

Smoke processed the information he had been given. "Hunh. So... she called me a fucker?"

Jessie pursed her lips, and figured that was as good a translation as any. "Sure."

Meanwhile, Dani had leaned towards Chipper, and asked in a hushed tone, "What does 'fucker' mean anyway?"

Smoke smiled, "I like you, Lieutenant." He stood, took a deep breath, and declared, "All right. From now on, you can call me Bosh'tet."

Not to be outdone, Dani declared, "Then you can me Fucker."

At that point, Marshall had returned to the bridge. "No, we will not." He said with a level voice that did not suggest any debate on this matter will be welcome.

Smoke pretended to be hurt as Marshall took his chair. "Oh, but you have no problem with my new name?"

Marshall leaned back. "It suits you..." then while cracking the barest of smiles added, "Bosh'tet."

Dani joined in the laughter of the crew. Perhaps she was starting to fit in... or perhaps all the people here were so crazy that it didn't matter. She had yet to decide which. "Whatever is wrong with a little nickname... Ghost?" She asked in tease, and discovered that was somehow a bad question to ask.

It felt like the temperature on the bridge dropped ten degrees. The captain was outright furious at her, his anger readily apparent from the flare of his nostrils and the clenched fists in both hands. Chipper had gripped the sides of her terminal, bracing for an explosion, curling in on herself in an instinctive protective measure. To her other side, Ensign Mayes was gawking in a mix of amazement and fear.

Smoke was quick to Dani's defense, "Captain, she probably heard it from me. She doesn't know."

At least the glare moved to the commander rather than on her. After ten nervous seconds, the rage started to dispel, and he regarded the quarian once more. "You will refer to me as Captain, Captain Brasser, or sir." He said coldly. "I trust we are clear on this."

Dani nodded emphatically. "Yes..." Then hastily added, "Sir."

"Good. Now get back to work. I doubt you're going to learn the nav station by osmosis."

Dani spun back around, Chipper still locked in her defensive position, only reluctantly leaning away from her station to continue the lesson. So much for fitting in...

* * *

><p>By the end of the duty day, the guilt had fully sunk in. It wasn't that Marshall <em>wanted <em>to be a complete jackass. He even knew he had overreacted the moment Smoke had interjected. He already had a fairly large blow-up the second day of the expedition when he had heard Chipper just wondering about the origin of his and Smoke's nicknames with Lieutenant Michal in the mess hall. Of course Dani wouldn't have known anything about that. But he had wanted to make it clear there were some topics that would not be raised on his ship, and that was one of them.

At the same time... he needed to apologize for what could have been a much more volatile event if not for Smoke's interference. No one deserved that anger for something that relatively harmless. Hesitantly activating the person to person comm, he said, "Lieutenant Dani'Arah, can you meet me in my quarters?"

"Yes... sir." The quarian replied, the fear in her voice apparent. Just what Marshall needed, to have terrified a liaison officer trusted to him by a fellow captain as a peaceful request. She was probably scared that she had unwittingly done something else wrong.

It took more time than it probably should for him to get the request to enter from his door, but he understood why. "Come in."

Dani emerged, wringing her hands, her head down shamefully as the door slid shut again behind her. "You... you wanted to see me... sir?"

"Yes." Marshall replied. "I wanted to apologize for my outburst. Outside of an extremely minor violation of proper address, you did nothing wrong. My reaction was _my _fault, and mine alone." He was reluctant to continue, but forced himself to. Dani deserved an explanation for his behavior. "The commander and I got our particular nicknames from my departed wife when we were all in training. As such... it's a sensitive issue for me. The commander gets away with it because I've known him for years, and the memory is as much his as it is mine."

"I understand that, sir." Dani said, the relief that she wasn't going to be chided further clear. "On Rannoch, when a bondmate dies, the other of the coupling is referred to without using a family name for up to a year's time, simply because the mere invocation of the name can be traumatic."

That was still a lot shorter than it was taking him to get over it, Marshall noted. Although he suspected the consequences of... his wife's... death was a bit more unusual than most.

"I am merely glad that I did not commit a grave offense to human military convention." Dani continued. "In case you hadn't noticed, quarian ships can be a bit more informal."

"Well, in service for a decade will do that. Most of us here hadn't met until about twenty days ago, even less for us thanks to the relativity of FTL speeds." Marshall said, "Near the end of our tour, we'll probably start dropping our 'sirs' and 'ma'ams' too. It comes with familiarity."

"I... am already seeing it, sir." Dani admitted. "Many of the lieutenants are already on a first name basis, and there's you and Sm... Commander Takei. Have you known each other very long?"

"As long as I know _anybody, _really." Marshall said. "I didn't exactly have the most stable childhood. Another of the _many _things I don't like talking about. You'll learn _all _about the off-limits topics eventually, I'm sure. I'll try not to get quite so incensed when you step too close to the line, promise."

Dani blinked, and asked warily, "You're not... going to try and make me pinky-swear, are you? I'm... not equipped for it."

Marshall's face flattened, and he deadpanned. "The commander?"

"Yes."

Marshall's single, sharp exhale was all the response needed for that. He was about to dismiss Dani when he caught the comm out of the corner of his eye, and had an idea. Checking the time in Seattle quickly, confirming that it wasn't too late at night, he said. "Hold here for a moment, Lieutenant, I have someone I'd like you to meet."

Dani did so, more out of curiosity than anything else as Marshall started to tap out instructions into the comm. There was a short wait, before the call was answered, and a young girl's voice and face appeared.

"Hi, daddy!"

"Hey, kiddo." Marshall answered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry about the whole, 'I'll call every night' promise going out the window in the first week."

"It's okay!" Kelsey said. "Relativity makes time get weird when going at high speeds. I know that!"

Kids were learning far more complicated stuff at increasingly younger ages, Marshall discovered. "I'm glad you understand." He replied. "Hey, kiddo, I've got someone for you to meet. But, you can't talk about it to anyone in school, understand?"

"Is it about meeting quarians?" Kelsey asked, shocking Marshall with the question.

"How... where did you hear _that_?" Marshall questioned, wanting to know the source before confirming or denying anything.

"On the news two nights ago." His daughter explained. "The Prime Minister announced that one of our spaceships had made contact with the quarian people. They didn't say the ship, or said it was you, but I knew! I knew it was my daddy!"

Marshall shook his head. He supposed it would figure, really. Any chance the Nimea Parliament got to demonstrate superiority to the Sedin Consulate, they generally took it. Making first contact with another species would definitely be a notch they'd want to crow about. At least they kept his name out of it... that could have potentially started another war.

"Well then, I suppose there is no reason to drag this out." He gestured to Dani to enter the field of vision for the video. "Kelsey Brasser, this is Dani'Arah."

Dani had already been made aware of the fact that the _Iwo Jima's _VI had its likeness based on the captain's daughter, and found the claim to be true enough. "Greetings, little one." Dani said, trying to get some sort of clue as to what to say from her captain. She really had no idea what to say to a child.

Kelsey did not appear to have the same problem. "Are you really a quarian?"

Dani rolled her eyes at the question. "As of the last time I checked, yes."

"Mr. Sanderson says that quarians live their entire lives on spaceships. Is that true?"

Dani regarded Marshall with amusement. "Clearly, Reticuli has much outdated information." Focusing on Kelsey again, she said, "We used to, yes. But we have since reclaimed our homeworld. It's called Rannoch."

"Can you say that again?" Kelsey asked, "I want a recording to show Mr. Sanderson."

"I suspect details are still highly secret, Kelsey." Marshall reprimanded. "I do not want High Command calling me because of what their kids heard at school. Understand?"

Kelsey pouted, but the shift of her arms suggested she was no longer toying with her omni-tool. "Yes, daddy." Of course, the alien quickly compromised Kelsey's full attention again. "Mr. Sanderson says Quarians have three fingers and toes. Is _that _true?"

Dani brandished her left hand, surprisingly finding the questions more amusing than bothersome. "Yes, _that _much is correct."

"Coooooool." The little girl crooned. "Isn't it hard to hold things with just three fingers?"

"I... I can't say I've ever had any trouble. Using your computer terminals can be a little difficult, though. They really are designed for people with a couple extra digits."

That admission gave Marshall a pause, and he was rather ashamed he hadn't even given thought to it, because it seemed rather obvious now. He'd have to patch through to the Iktomi and work with Jessie at some point to see if there wasn't a way to create a more quarian friendly overlay for Dani's profile.

Meanwhile, Kelsey and Dani's conversation had shifted topics. "You're very pretty." Kelsey said.

Dani blushed slightly despite herself. "Well thank you, little one. You are quite lovely yourself." That wasn't particularly a lie, either. Dani felt for her captain with the prospect of the girl maturing into what was no doubt going to be a strikingly attractive young lady.

Kelsey grinned, then said impishly, "Are you gonna be my new mommy?"

"Kelsey!" Marshall barked.

The sight of Captain Brasser shaken was worth the embarrassment of the question. "No, little one. I don't think that would work."

"Oh." Kelsey said dejectedly. "Why not?"

"I wouldn't be able to eat on your homeworld." Dani said. It _was _the truth, if not the _honest _answer to Kelsey's question. "I can only eat food that is compatible to my stomach. Your food would possibly be poisonous to me."

"That is a good reason." Kelsey replied.

"Alright, kiddo. You've embarrassed me enough for one night. Make sure you get your homework done and have Aunt Marie check it."

"I know, daddy." The little girl droned. "Call me again soon!"

"I will, kiddo."

"Kelsey out!" She said, saluting before the link went dead.

Marshall leaned back in his chair. "That actually went _better _than I expected."

"She is a charming girl." Dani assessed. "When she grows up, you are going to have to fend off all the young men seeking her heart with a large weapon, I suspect."

Marshall snorted bitterly. "You speak as if I haven't had to do that _already_."

"But I can tell she cares for you deeply, and you her."

Marshall's eyes drifted off through the wall and into space, remembering a dark place that he had only gotten through because of his daughter. "She's pretty much my reason for living."

"It's good that you have that." Dani said. "Some among my people... don't. It is hard to go through life without that special connection you can have with another. I can't imagine it is all that different among humans."

"Perhaps not." Marshall concluded. "I am probably luckier than I deserve at times. Thank you for putting up with us crazy humans, Lieutenant."

"It is your ship. If anything you put up with _me_."

Marshall shook his head. "The moment you accepted your commission to come aboard, the Iwo Jima became just as much your ship as any other crew member here. Don't let anyone tell you differently."

Somehow, Dani doubted the captain's High Command felt quite the same way. "That is kind of you to say, sir. By your leave, Lieutenant Dean wants me up on the bridge early tomorrow to continue my training."

"Then get to sleep, Lieutenant. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

><p>Surprisingly, there were developments pertaining to their actual mission as well.<p>

Marshall and the rest of the primary crew had barely managed to settle into their stations when Chipper made a discovery.

"Sir... we're getting a ping from the Attican Beta cluster." She declared.

"I don't believe that is on our currently projected course, is it?" Marshall asked.

"No sir, but... we're getting an _active _ping. From a space station in the Hercules system, in fact."

There were two different types of pings, a passive ping, which was a simple low power standby response with sparse information and had been the standard fare from all the comm buoys they had received. An active ping could only come from an operating computer system that was processing data.

"Alter course, Lieutenant. Let's check it out."

Chipper grinned, then turned to Dani, "Actually, Lieutenant _Dani'Arah_, I think it's time for you to give it a shot. Let's see you work your magic."

"Oh! Yes! All right." The quarian replied. "Gathering telemetry... plotting course... sending to nav computer... Yes! Got it! Green on all boards, sir!"

"Then let's move out. Needle when ready, Lieutenant Dean."

As the crew jumped into action, Smoke asked, "Think there's someone alive out there?"

Marshall shook his head. "We'd be getting more than a ping if that was the case. What it _does _mean is that someone left the lights on, and it could have recorded information on The Pulse that did all this damage."


	12. Chapter 12

_CODEX: RETICULI PRIME_

_On first sight, the Reticuli System is a largely uninteresting stellar system in a very nondescript cluster between Styx Theta and the Caleston Rift. _

_ The Reticuli system is a binary star system, with the yellow Reticuli Alpha at its center, six planets, and a white dwarf star Reticuli Beta in a loose orbit outside the system's Oort Cloud, likely a wanderer that got trapped at some point in Reticuli Alpha's gravity well._

_ Reticuli Prime is the second planet in orbit around Reticuli Alpha, and is often called a "Goldilocks World," in that it is "just right" for human habitation. With an average gravity of 1.03 G, a primarily nitrogen/oxygen atmosphere, a day that lasts 24 hours and 17 minutes by Earth reckoning, and a year of 371 days, with a temperature variance of -23 C and 46 C, levo chirality in its lifeforms, and 63% surface water. It is only 83% Earth's diameter, but is more dense, making it slightly more massive than Earth._

_ Moderate interest in the system comes from the fact that there are three mass relays within observational distance, brought close together over millions of years due to galactic drift; the Reticuli Relay, the Quantico Relay, and the Caleston Rift Relay._

_ Reticuli Prime was originally founded in 2167 by the Alliance for precisely that purpose, in an attempt to determine the actual age of the mass relays. That changed in 2180 with the discovery of what could potentially have been the single greatest discovery since the Prothean Archive on Mars._

_ With timing still as of yet undetermined, ancient mechanisms brought from deep underground what would eventually be called the Reticulan Chronicle. Little headway was made deciphering the ancient archive until 2186, when Prothean records of their own attempt to translate the contents were found by Brandon Pinot, the Prothean data discs which now inaccurately his name as "The Pinot Stones," a reference to the Rosetta Stone that allowed Egyptian hieroglyphs to finally be deciphered on Earth._

_ The Reticulan Chronicle told the history of the Reticulan people, a species that existed over two million years ago, and believed to have been destroyed by the Reapers. What made the Reticulan story so unusual from other species was that they possessed unusual awareness of the "machine gods," their technological developments made as if intentionally avoiding the encouraged path provided by Reaper technology._

_ Due to those findings within the Chronicle, Reticuli Prime became a top-secret Research and Development colony for the Alliance, making significant headway in developing weapons and defenses to counter the rising Reaper threat. The planet was then abruptly cut off from the rest of the galaxy in 2186, when Commander Shepard and his crew used the Massive ElectroMagnetic Ordinance to disable the Reticulan Relay and spare it from what was believed to be an advancing Reaper offensive._

_ Shortly after, the colony fell into a chaotic civil war, only ended in 2194 when Michael Nimea and Josef Sedin reached a peace accord and formed two separate nations on the two major continents on the planet. As part of the agreement, Nimea kept the Recticulan Chronicle, and Sedin gained control of the Pinot Stones, so that neither country would have an inherent advantage over the other._

_ The two nations have since had two other major conflicts, the Second Civil War, from 2239 to 2247, and the Oceanic War, a short one year campaign that started and ended in 2281._

_ Nimea has proven to be the more prosperous nation, what they were able to keep from the Pinot Stones giving them more advantage than what the country of Sedin had been able to keep from the Chronicle. In 2287, the country of Nimea announced that they had developed an interstellar spacecraft, with the announcement that they had made contact with the quarian species shortly after._

**Chapter 12**

Approach to Hercules Station proved Marshall's earlier hypothesis.

"No response from any comm channel, sir." Jessie informed.

"Sensors are detecting minimal power and no life support... and no life signs, sir." Ensign Mayes added. "The main computers, however, are active and online... but refuse to give us any status updates due to a security lockdown."

"Not surprising." Marshall replied. "We aren't carrying an Alliance ID, so it wouldn't know us from a quarian... no offense."

"None taken." Dani replied.

Lance spoke up through the comm, saying, "Sir, part of the problem might be that the station can't access any Alliance central database to confirm or deny our identity. I do have access to several Old Alliance access codes that would allow us to circumvent the security locks, but would need to board the station to use them."

"Can we dock with the station, Lieutenant Dean?"

"Should be compatible enough, and there is no rejection from the main computer." Chipper said. "Won't even need a shuttle."

Marshall acknowledged the reponse with a nod. "Alright. LC, you're with me." He then turned his eyes towards Dani, and said, "Lieutenant Dani'Arah, why don't you gear up as well? I understand you have a considerable tech background yourself. A second opinion couldn't hurt."

"Me?" Dani said in surprise, pointing at her chest.

"Told you." Chipper whispered knowingly, "Don't blame me if a vorcha starts trying to eat your face or something."

"I highly doubt there are any vorcha anywhere nearby." Marshall retorted, surprising Chipper by hearing her tease. "Although... it's said they don't _always _show up on life sign scans."

"It could also explain the lockdown." Smoke added thoughtfully.

"You three are _not _funny." Dani replied, even as she gulped nervously and slid out of her chair to head towards the armory.

Marshall turned to follow her. "Commander, you have the bridge."

* * *

><p>Marshall felt like he was stepping into a time capsule.<p>

Things didn't age quite the same way in space. When ignored, objects went into a type of stasis, especially when computerized system continued to scrub the air of dust and moisture. Everything on board Hercules Station was as it was a hundred years ago... consoles clean and free of smudges, windows as clear as the day the station was opened.

"Well, here was the active computer process." Lance remarked as he found the nearest terminal to begin his diagnostic. "A distress call." His brows furrowed, "But that doesn't make sense... it's broadcasting on no channel the Alliance used."

"Can you get through the lockdown?" Marshall asked.

"That's the thing, sir. It's _not _on lockdown. It's in blackout." Lance explained. "The computer was programmed to ignore any and all Alliance queries, and to overload the core in a self-destruct sequence if Alliance tried to board."

"Wait... a human station, rigged itself to _blow _if Alliance set foot here?" Marshall asked.

"Yes, sir. As it is, it's waiting for an ID from us."

"Any idea on how long we have?"

"That's just it. There's not nearly enough power for a self-destruct. So we're safe... for now. I really don't want to put in _anything _until we have a better idea just what the computer is expecting."

At that point, they were interrupted by Dani's squeal of fright. The quarian woman had apparently decided to do some investigating of her own, and had taken a malfunctioning door to the fore side as an invitation to go in.

"Damn it, Dani... what part of 'stick together' was unclear?" Marshall grumbled as he stepped into the room. "I expect that sort of thing out of the commander, not..."

His words cut off for two reasons, one because Dani had literally collided into him, burying her helmet into his chest, frantically pointing at the second reason... the human skeleton crumpled into a heap in the corner, wearing a white, black, and orange uniform.

The bones were a dingy light brown having not been bleached by sun, the skull having fallen off from its weight having rolled to a stop three feet away, but the uniform was nearly pristine, outside from biomass stains on the collar and armholes... almost like someone had pulled the uniform over a human skeleton the night before.

But what caught Marshall's eye most of all was the orange hexagon insignia on the uniform breast.

"LC, I think we have our answer." Marshall said just as Lance entered the room himself.

Both officers reached the same conclusion simultaneously. "Cerberus."

Dani's eyes flashed with recognition, "This is a _Cerberus base?_"

"You are aware of the organization, I see." Marshall stated.

Dani shuddered, "My people had... a couple incidents... with them. They did not represent humanity well. Fortunately, other elements of your species did."

Lance nodded, "Well, now I know what ID the computer wants."

Grimly, the _Iwo Jima's _chief engineer returned to the console in the docking bay, consulted his omni-tool, then tapped in a ten character sequence. Instantly, other doors connecting to the docking bay unlocked, and a more complete status of the base was made available to him.

"You know Cerberus codes?" Dani questioned harshly. "How do you know Cerberus codes?"

Marshall replied, "Before the Reaper War... the Reticuli Prime colony was known to... supply Cerberus and the Illusive Man with various tech and support, completely on the side and not to the full knowledge of everyone on the colony. I'm actually surprised the LC here knows about it."

"High Command considered the possibility that we'd find Cerberus influence out in the wild black yonder, and supplied me with pass codes and identification from that time just in case." The Lieutenant Commander answered. "Nothing more than that, I can assure you."

"And why wasn't _I _made aware of this?" Marshall asked, his tone bordering on accusing.

Lance shrugged as he continued to read the status report. "I wasn't aware you hadn't been. I'd have said something otherwise." He stopped momentarily, and turned, "Are you afraid I'm some High Command lap dog, assigned here to watch you and seize control of the ship if I deem you unfit for duty?"

"The thought had crossed my mind, yes." Marshall answered, rather glad Lance had brought up that elephant in the room rather than him.

"Good. Because I am, to an extent." Lance answered with surprising honesty. "But I truly wasn't aware of what you hadn't been briefed on. When we return to the Iwo Jima, we'll set aside a couple hours to trade notes. Somehow I suspect High Command told _you _some things they didn't tell _me_, either."

Marshall nodded, then turned his attention back to the quarian woman. "Anyway, rest assured, Lieutenant, we haven't had any contact with Cerberus in a hundred years, just like anyone else until we ran into the Iktomi." Marshall comforted Dani. "We aren't Cerberus. We aren't Alliance. We're our own nation, beholden to no one but ourselves."

"I knew _that _much." Dani said with what Marshall guessed was a roll of her eyes. It was somewhat hard to tell because of the mostly opaque helmet. "If you had been Cerberus, I wouldn't be here, and the Iktomi would probably be a debris field in the Quantico System."

"As I thought, the eezo is almost completely exhausted, systems were gradually shut down to conserve power. Life support was turned off ninety-five years ago after the computer determined all crew was dead." Lance reported after he had finished reading. "Several broad-channel distress calls _were _made ninety-six years ago." His voice dropped solemnly as he finished, "There was no response on any channel."

"With the relays fried, there'd be no way they'd have gotten any distress call terribly far, nor could a response have come." Marshall noted.

Lance disagreed. "There should have at least been a response. Even using just comm buoys, they should have been able to get a distress call as far as Pinnacle Station in Argus Rho." He stopped to gather his breath and his thoughts. "Captain... one of the things that High Command might not have told you is... they don't expect us to find anything out here. At least, nothing alive."

He gestured to Dani, "Part of the reason they didn't have any protocols in place for dealing with alien contact was because they didn't expect we'd run into anyone. They have been operating under the assumption that the Reapers won. Our purpose is to pick up the pieces and secretly prepare for the next cycle down the road."

Marshall processed this revelation. "It would make sense. Quantum communication with Earth produced nothing. It was merely _assumed _that the Reapers were coming to Reticuli Prime because of sudden movement in their fleet. They may have not ever really known humans had settled there."

Dani interjected, "You, sirs, are not nearly as informed as you think you are." Having got their attention, she explained, "While perhaps it is possible that the Reapers knew nothing of Reticuli Prime, they _did _know about Rannoch. Your Commander Shepard led our people in destroying a Reaper _on Rannoch_. Had the Reapers won, like you think, they would have come back and exterminated us. I can promise you that they most certainly did _not _win."

"And destroying the relays seems counter-intuitive as well." Marshall agreed. "So if the Reapers didn't win... and the Alliance didn't win... who _did_?"

"I think the answer to _that _question will come with discovering the origin and purpose of The Pulse." Lance concluded. He consulted a station map, and pointed to the now unlocked aft door. "The main computer cluster is that way. I'll need to consult it if anything is to be found."

As the door opened, he stopped to say, "Oh, by the way... there _are _several Loki, Fenrir, and Ymir class mechs on this station, and they _are _programmed to engage and attack hostiles. They are also on separate power cores that may or may not be as drained as the station itself. It may be prudent to be ready for anything."

Marshall frowned, clicking his sidearm off of safety, and reaching back to the same with his rifle on his back. "Of course..."

"Damn it, Chipper was right." Dani grumbled as she did the same to her weapons, taking the rear behind both the captain and lieutenant commander.

* * *

><p>Marshall's only experience with space stations had been Solar Sync in the Reticuli System, a congested, tightly packed horror to navigate and to maneuver in. So, he was a little taken by surprise when the halls of Hercules Station gave ample room for three people to walk side by side and with plenty of head room. And was even more astonished when they entered the massively expansive chamber that housed the station's main computer cluster.<p>

"Tell me again why we couldn't have constructed Solar Sync like this?" Marshall asked.

"Because High Command is a bunch of cheapskate bastards who only spend money when they can make it showy." Lance grumbled. "Like the Iwo Jima, for example." He honestly wasn't particularly annoyed by the captain's question, because he had been asking himself much the same.

"Well, do your thing, LC." Marshall said, gesturing to the primary console.

As Lance complied, Marshall surveyed the surroundings, most notably the rows of mechs along the port and starboard walls. He had absolutely no idea what condition they would be in after one hundred years, but they appeared to look in pristine shape.

Dani confirmed Marshall's estimation, having taken to the starboard wall and scanning some Lokis with her omni-tool. "I do not think these have ever been activated, Captain." She said. "Unless they had parts that for some reason needed constant maintenance even when inoperative, I see no reason to believe they would not be fully functional."

"With luck, we'll never have to find out." Marshall said, gesturing for her to join him and the lieutenant commander. "Now get over here just in case you accidentally do something to trigger them."

"Aye aye, sir."

With that order, Marshall addressed Lance again. "How's it going?"

"Good so far." Lance answered. "I've gotten into the system without any trouble... but all it's giving me is the same general garbage from before. I'm trying to access the more classified records, but I don't have the clearance, it would seem."

"Does it tell you who _does_?"

"... The Illusive Man."

"No chance you happen to have his access codes tucked away somewhere?"

Lance gave Marshall a patronizing stare.

"Doesn't hurt to ask." Marshall said with an amused shrug.

Lance turned back to the console. "It's fine. This isn't a terribly complicated operating system. I should be able to hack into it and... shit."

When people used "shit" in that context, Marshall had found that the reason was never good. "What?"

"Cerberus likes playing games with their computers it seems. The moment I tried to even access a general command prompt, it immediately requested an override from the chief of the station or the Illusive Man."

"And that means?"

"Well... the computer has already discovered it doesn't have the power to set the self-destruct, so I have sixty seconds to give it the pass code it wants before it activates the mechs. No worries, I have plenty of time... I can get to the command prompt and..."

At that point, the power to the station flickered, and after that brief outage, Lance found that it had glitched the timer from sixty seconds... to five.

"Fuck me." He groaned, then said, "Captain... _incoming!_"

On queue, lights on the mechs lit, and the brackets holding them in place dropped.

"Dani, take cover!" Marshall ordered, pointing to a glass railing on the perimeter of the cluster station that he hoped was weapons fire resistant. "LC, we'll try and keep the mechs off you. Get to work on hacking through."

Marshall himself had taken position opposite Dani on the other side of the walkway just as the first of the Loki mechs stepped forward.

Dani checked over her shotgun to make sure it was off safety and ready to fire, getting a bead and firing a single round that splattered shrapnel through the mech and caused it to topple. Rather than disabled, it instead started crawling forward with its arms as the other mechs in its row identified the intruders and raised their own weapons.

"Damn it... Chipper was _so right_."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Patching through to the _Iwo Jima_, Marshall began issuing further orders. "Commander, get Valanov, Grimes, and O'Carter suited up to provide backup as soon as possible!"

"Copy that, Captain." Smoke answered. "Want me to gear up as well?"

"Negative. If you have to break dock, you're in command."

Smoke didn't like that order, but understood it. "Aye aye, sir."

Marshall then settled in to face the immediate threat. It was quite fortunate that the mechs didn't have magnetic barriers, because otherwise their sheer numbers would have been more than enough to overwhelm the two defenders at the end of the walkway. The numbers were plenty troublesome as it was.

They were holding their ground, for the time being, but the increasing number of Ymirs was _going _to be a problem, especially if more Fenris were lurking back there. Marshall had... an option... he could entertain; but with Dani and Lance close by it was one he was not keen on using until it was absolutely life or death.

Dani had focused on dealing with the Fenris mechs, her shotgun suited to handle the canine analogue mechanicals as they possessed no ranged weapons, leaving Marshall to the Lokis and Ymirs. One well placed shot from his sidearm handled the Lokis easily enough, although the sturdiness of the Ymirs, even with his rifle ignoring their shields, required more active attention.

"What's your progress, LC?" He shouted over the sounds of weapons fire.

"Cerberus apparently decided that ten firewalls is a perfectly rational approach to computer security." Lance grumbled, momentarily ducking from a ricochet that came a little too close for his comfort. "Of course, it would go a lot quicker if you could keep those mechs from shooting at me!"

"Well, next time one comes close enough, I'll ask nicely if it would tell it's friends to stop." Dani groused sarcastically, followed by leaning around the corner to take out a charging Fenris with a couple blasts.

Seeing a break in the advancing mechs, the quarian woman addressed her omni-tool. While she probably couldn't help much with Lance's work, she might be able to... "Ah ha!"

As she had hoped, she gained control of one of the Ymirs, the lumbering mech turning on its kin, and firing three short bursts, before its efforts were stopped by a round from the captain's rifle, ripping through its right arm and through the processing core in its head.

"Gah! Captain, I had that one!" Dani shouted in protest.

"Sorry!" Marshall apologized, quickly changing his target and firing another rifle round into the head of a Loki as it made the turn onto the walkway.

"And it's no fair that you can kill things in one shot!" She continued.

"Remind Lieutenant Valanov to hook you up with some of our weapons, on my orders." Marshall replied. At this point, he figured Dani had earned the right to some exposure to their tech, no matter what High Command thought of the matter.

Smoke cut into the chatter. "Sir, backup is ready to be issued on your orders."

"Probably won't be needed, Commander." Lance said, "I've almost... got it..."

Not even five seconds after, the mechs started powering down, sparse fire dwindling as the order to go to standby didn't reach all units simultaneously. But once it did, Dani and Marshall allowed themselves a breather.

"Well... considering that was my first live fire experience, it went well." Dani assessed.

Marshall was a bit surprised to hear that, but quickly corrected his thoughts before he could air them. Just because Reticuli Prime was somewhat fond of hostilities roughly every forty years didn't mean Rannoch had that same inclination. "I wouldn't have guessed it was." He finally said in compliment. "You handled yourself very admirably."

That earned him a wan smile. "Thank you, sir. I take it you've seen your share of combat?"

"More than my share, honestly." Marshall replied, gesturing Dani to follow as he approached Lance at the primary console. "I hope the ends justified the means, LC."

"I have access to the classified sections of the computer." Lance said with guarded optimism. "Whether or not they'll have anything of value is another matter entirely. I'd rather transfer all this to the Iwo Jima, and study it in the more comfortable and non-mech infested environs of our ship."

"I'm in agreement on that score." Marshall answered. "We're sure these things will stay deactivated when we try to leave, right?"

"I make no promises."

That encouraged Dani to stop poking the Loki in front of her with the barrel of her shotgun, at least. Her reckless curiosity would be annoying if it wasn't so oddly adorable. Once Lance had finished his transfer, Marshall took the lead back to the docking bay, and the safety of the _Iwo Jima_.

* * *

><p>"It's funny," Dani commented as she examined the damage to her armor, handing it off to Tolstoy for repair. "Just little cuts like those could have been disastrous for me had I lived just a hundred years ago. I'm sometimes amazed at how far my people have come."<p>

Marshall didn't respond to the monologue, instead addressing Lance. "LC, once you've processed the data from this station, let me know. You, the commander, and I will have a debriefing then."

The three then stopped in sick bay on the third deck, more as a matter of procedure than anything else. Surprisingly, none of the three had taken any serious injury despite the amount of mass accelerated metal that had been fogging the air. Apparently, a hundred years of armor and weapons advancement actually meant something. A little medical gel to nurse the few nicks and cuts was plenty.

From there, Marshall allowed Lance to take the elevator back down to the fourth deck and engineering, then once it returned, he and Dani took it up to the second deck. The elevator door hadn't even fully opened before Jessie was in full sprint towards the two, abandoning any sense of proper protocol. Marshall didn't have the heart to chide her about it.

She nearly screeched to a stop as both officers stepped off the elevator. "Lieutenant! I'm so glad you're okay!"

"I'm glad I'm okay too." Dani said, color rising to her cheeks at Jessie's worry. "I... am fine, however. I appreciate your concern."

"I wasn't concerned!" Jessie replied. "You were with Captain Brasser! He's faced a lot more dangerous situations than a bunch of century-old mechs! I'm just glad you weren't hurt!"

"Back to your post, Lieutenant Michal." Marshall finally ordered, more to break up the chatter than anything else. The last thing he needed was Jessie spouting exaggerated war stories. "You too, Dani."

"Aye aye, sir." Both women replied.

Dani took her station at the nav computer, trying very hard to ignore Chipper's smug grin.

"Told ya." The pilot finally said.

"Shut it, woman." Dani answered flatly, keeping her head straight forward, even as a hint of a smile crept across her lips. "You're just jealous that I proved I can handle a firefight."

"The Lieutenant represented herself admirably." Marshall agreed. "I can only hope that Nimea training is equal to that of Rannoch's if it comes to that. Although her lack of self-preservation both before and after the altercation left something to be desired."

The quarian colored as Smoke couldn't help but press the issue. "Oh, this I gotta hear."

"Silence, bosh'tet."

"Make me, fucker."

"Bosh'tet!"

"Fucker."

Marshall finally interrupted. "Enough!" Staring down Smoke, he added, "Damn it, it's like I'm serving with _two _of you now." He couldn't fight back the chuckle betraying his thoughts, then said, "This girl here..." he said, gesturing at Dani, "started poking one of the mechs with her gun after they were disabled, trying to see if she could make it fall over. That's nothing to say of her actively scanning the things before they went live, _after _learning that the computer was already on high alert, _after _knowing she was on a Cerberus station, _knowing _how they viewed alien lifeforms..."

Smoke belted out in laughter, "Yeah, that _does _sound like something I would do."

"But at least she didn't cower behind a console crying like a little girl like our brave chief engineer..."

Lance cut in from Engineering. "I heard that. _You_ try hacking a console through live fire."

"Have, actually." Marshall retorted. "On three separate occasions. The commander can vouch."

"He did." Smoke confirmed. "And he did it with _me_ covering his six."

Dani jibed, "That must have been terrifying, Captain."

Marshall shook his head. "All kidding aside, there's a reason Commander Takei is here, and why I wanted him here. You don't get much better, combat seasoned, specialists than the commander here. Don't let his cheery disposition fool you... there isn't a man in this galaxy I'd rather have keeping my tail clear."

"Stop it. You're gonna make me blush." Smoke said.

"Anyway... let's return to our normal course, and get back on schedule. Lieutenant Dani'Arah, work your magic."

* * *

><p>During the jump back to their original course, Lance informed Marshall that he was ready for their meeting.<p>

Smoke and Marshall were already in the conference room on deck two when the lieutenant commander arrived, and they spent the first part of the meeting putting together what all three of them had been given by High Command.

"Yeah, they didn't exactly tell me about the self-destruct option." Lance said, referring to the codes given to both Smoke and Marshall in case of a Reaper encounter. "I mean... I kinda _guessed _they'd have something like that in place... but didn't _know_ how or where."

Marshall could see how that would be a bit upsetting to the chief engineer. The two people above him in the command structure could freeze him out of his engines and force the Mobius Core to overload; people who wouldn't have had a third of the understanding of the engines at that.

"So, basically, High Command didn't trust any of us three." Smoke concluded. "Makes you wonder why they gave us the commission in the first place."

"Oh, I know _exactly_ why I was sent here; because I wanted to go, and gave my colleagues a way to push me out of R&D." Lance said. He explained further before either of his superiors could ask, "I had butted heads on more than one occasion with the administration at the department as to the direction of the projects we were taking on. The sentiment lately has been to shift to more 'practical' applications... I was with a camp that insisted we still needed to focus on military development as long as Sedin still existed."

Again, he didn't let either Marshall or Smoke interject. "Make no mistake, I'm not some war hawk that spent his entire time diddling with weapons research without ever really learning the damage they can do. I spent the entire Oceanic War as a field mechanic. My parents were Sedin political refugees. I know the crimes against humanity that nation committed, and continues to commit. We can't just stop now that we think we have the upper hand."

Locking eyes with Marshall, Lance added, "You know just as well as I do what Sedin is capable of."

"Neither of us were questioning your motives, LC." Marshall answered, while not really answering. "Rest assured, the two of us have as much reason to dislike our sister country as you do. I suspect that was the reason High Command didn't mind us leaving the planet for a good long time as well. Neither of us could possibly be in their good graces due to the Day After Affair."

"Hide the warts long enough to try and find a more 'peaceful' solution." Lance grumbled. "Like it's even possible."

Marshall wanted to think there _was _a way to end the sporadic aggression on Reticuli Prime, allowing the entire planet to pool their resources together, and that his war-trained mind just couldn't see it. Because he was definitely of Lance's opinion; Marshall had personally experienced the sort of atrocities Sedin engaged within their borders, and he also knew it hadn't stopped with the end of the Oceanic War.

But now was not the time for that sort of dwelling. Whether it was politically expedient or not, they had a very important task to accomplish in front of them, and it was a mystery that was not solving itself. "Let's turn our focus to the here and now. Did our foray onto Hercules Station give us anything useful?"

"It did... in what it _didn't _tell us." Lance answered, calling up pertinent data onto the holographic display. "As far as the station was able to determine, The Pulse was nothing more than an orange-red visible light phenomenon. It didn't radiate any other detectable energy other than that."

"But we know that can't be true." Marshall replied.

"Obviously. Now, what caught my attention was what _followed_. Thirty-seven microseconds _after _The Pulse passes, there is electromagnetic static on a very narrow frequency band, here." Lance said, pointing to the anomaly in question. "It's damn near at the top of the spectrum that the station could detect. It in and of itself didn't do much more than a particularly small solar flare would; disrupted communication and possibly caused some interruption of power."

The image shifted to an exterior representation of the station. "Now here's where it gets interesting. This static came from the exact _opposite _direction of The Pulse." The model demonstrated visually what Lance was describing... the orange-red pulse, then a white wave from the opposite direction. "This wasn't coincidence. My theory it was an echo of sorts... the residual bounce back from a wave of much higher intensity on a band beyond what we could detect... a band that Reaper technology, or in fact, most synthetic life operate on at a base level."

"What would it take to prove this theory?" Marshall asked.

Lance snorted. "Damn near nothing. After a century, all we're going to find is the residual magnetic fields were currently seeing, and I doubt anything from back then would have been able to detect whatever this actually was. Hell, I doubt _we _have the technology to detect whatever it was now if it happened again. And that doesn't even _begin _to explain how or why The Pulse ripped up the mass relays without leveling a third of the damn galaxy."

"So the answer is... there is no answer?" Smoke said. "Yeah, High Command is going to _love _that."

"Yeah well, sometimes answers aren't wrapped up in a pretty little bow." Lance remarked. "You'd be amazed at how much you think is 'knowledge' is just a carefully worded educated guess."

"Leave how High Command takes the news to me." Marshall replied.

* * *

><p>High Command was... disappointed by Lance's appraisal, and no doubt had their own analysts poring over all the data taken from Hercules Station. That really didn't concern Marshall at that point, anyway.<p>

What was concerning him was the Damacles System, within the Orion Cluster. Like all the other systems with mass relays, said relay was torn asunder. It was getting predictable to the point that it was no longer distressing to see.

His concern was more accurately focused on the planet Novi, the third planet in the system. Old Alliance records had very little information on the world, from what was there it was described as a research effort into terraforming. Little headway had been made on that score before the Reapers attacked the galaxy en masse.

What made the small colony notable wasn't that there was no life forms, Marshall had expected that, but that it didn't show signs of any Reaper attack. There was an off-chance something else caused the die-off, potentially evidence of a third party that would explain how both the Alliance _and _the Reapers wound up losing damn near everything.

"Commander, Valanov, Grimes, O'Carter. We're going planetside." Marshall ordered. "Be careful. Novi is still a largely untamed world. There's no telling what natural dangers could be down there. Lieutenant Commander Toole, the bridge is yours once you get up here."

"Not to mention any _un_natural dangers." Smoke said under his breath as he followed Marshall to the elevator, and to God-knows-what below.


	14. Chapter 14

_Author's Note: While I have been rather impressed by my rate of production so far, it is not to be for much longer, if for any other reason that this coming week is going to be focused on preparing for my trip to ACen 2012. If any of you out there are planning on attending, I'll be easy to find... working at the MegaTokyo booth. Just ask for Thomas, and don't mind the blank stare you might get initially. I don't think I'll bite._

_At least not hard._

**Chapter 14**

"You... want me to stay here... don't you?" Chipper asked nervously as they made their descent.

"Not necessary, Chipper." Marshall answered. "It was one thing asking you to hang around on what was clearly a dead zone; who knows what's down here? Just be alert in case I order a quick extraction."

"Copy that, sir."

Chipper didn't even power down the engines as the landing team disembarked, and she was nearly in Novi's stratosphere before Ensign Grimes had fully stood up straight.

"She didn't wait around, did she?" Smoke jested.

"You'd think she had been a Black Ops pilot." Marshall added.

Smoke shook his head. "Nah. She actually _landed_."

Marshall wasn't one to outright laugh, so the rest of the party outside of Smoke was a bit surprised to hear the sound coming from their captain. Clearly the two paramilitary veterans were sharing an inside joke.

But he got right to business even more abruptly. "Alright folks. Novi Post isn't going to investigate itself. Let's move."

Chipper had set themselves down in a clearing among the wild vegetation roughly a kilometer away, unable to find a more suitable within the town itself. Navigating the fairly treacherous wilderness only demonstrated why that was by the time they finally reached Novi Post itself.

Even at ground level, the landing party could barely tell that a town had been there at all, everything overrun by vegetation, covering the long modular bays that served multiple purposes in Old Alliance colonies.

But Smoke quickly noticed many things that put him on guard.

"Weapons ready." He said, the normally free-spirited Commander morphing into a stern, hyper-focused antithesis of himself. His assault rifle jumped from his back to his hands, and he steadily yet carefully moved into what had been the town square. Marshall was second in line, his sidearm ahead of him, strafing the sides watching for anything that might indicate hostile movement. Ensign Grimes activated her Tech Armor, then fell into position with O'Carter flanking the captain, with Tolstoy taking up the rear of the formation.

Smoke's target was a residential module on the west side of the square. As he came closer, he examined the open doorway, running a hand across the frame, then to the door that was laying flat on the floor of the module's interior.

"This door was forced open." He concluded. "The frame and the door are bowed inward, the position suggesting from a deliberate blow." He gestured outside, and said, "I'll bet a lot of the other modules with open doors are the same."

Grimes gestured with her sidearm to the far end of the module, where what appeared to be the remains of three people were cluttered together in the corner. Smoke moved cautiously towards the remains as Marshall took a position outside as a sentry, Tolstoy joining him.

"Two adults... and one child." Smoke assessed, mentally adding up the various bones and their sizes. "It appears they were eaten post-mortem."

Grimes and O'Carter glanced at each other in confusion before O'Carter finally asked. "How... do you know _that _just from looking at them?"

Smoke pointed out the various indicators that led him to his conclusion. "These bones have been scored, the shape of the marks are conical and curved inward, like fangs. The majority of the scoring is on the ribs, and the femurs... bigger, meatier parts of the human body. If the scoring had been due to an attack, we'd be seeing more defensive wounds; like on the wrists or forearms."

He then pointed to the skulls. "Another reason is that there's no signs of what would be severe trauma to any of the heads. Had there been a fight, at least one of these skulls would tell the tale."

"Then... what killed them?" Grimes asked.

"Hard to say just from looking." Smoke answered, his tone of voice turning towards thoughtful. He took off his helmet, examining the smaller group of bones more closely. "There's something... different about these teeth marks, though." Smoke picked up the child's femur. "O'Carter, can you give me some light here?"

The ensign complied, flipping the light on his assault rifle, and turning it towards the bone in question. The index finger on Smoke's left hand traced some of the scoring, and said, "Yeah... see these teeth marks? These aren't from the same sort of animal that made the other marks." He leaned in closer, "These almost look..."

Smoke dropped the bone, horrified. "Commander?" Grimes asked, worried at Smoke's spontaneous revulsion.

Smoke took a deep breath, steadying his nerves, and gave what he had discovered some thought. Finally, he reached to his neck, opening the clasps to his helmet, and took off his headgear. His brows furrowed in concentration, and he moved to the door, stepping outside and around Marshall. If Marshall was curious as to what Smoke was doing, he didn't show it.

Once outside, Smoke found the nearest branch of vegetation, and snapped a long, multi-leaf prong from its stem. It had a rough resemblance of a lace fern, except the fronds were more angular and square, and thicker. Narrowing his eyes, Smoke split the fronds, and recoiled from the smell, throwing it away in disgust.

"Cyanide." Smoke explained.

"Are you... sure?" Tolstoy asked, now extremely unnerved by the large stem of what resembled ivy hovering over his head.

"The commander here is a man who spends seventeen days of every year in the Arriba Desert for his _vacation_." Marshall interjected, "If anyone on Reticuli Prime knows more about survival tactics than Smoke, they aren't talking."

"I don't even think I could survive here." Smoke said. "If I was a betting man, I'd wager cyanide is part and parcel of Novi's ecology... animal and plant matter alike. The people of this town starved to death."

Grimes and O'Carter approached the doorway, the female ensign asking, "And those marks you saw..."

"Human." Smoke confirmed, putting his helmet back on. "They _ate _the kid."

It was only that Ensign Grimes didn't want a helmet filled with vomit that she didn't hurl right there. Marshall shook his head, disgusted by the very thought, and even more disgusted that it wasn't even the most deplorable thing he had personally experienced.

Then all thoughts went out the window when both Smoke and Marshall snapped to full alertness, their weapons leveled onto their eyes, pointing towards the dense foliage to the west. "So, you saw that too, huh?" Smoke said.

"Yep." Marshall answered grimly.

The rest of the landing team followed suit, their weapons more pointed in a general direction rather than whatever their commanding officers had spotted. "Saw what?" Tolstoy asked.

"Movement." Smoke answered, "Real quiet too. We're being watched."

"Take cover, everyone." Marshall ordered. "Valanov, Grimes, O'Carter, keep an eye on the flanks. Whatever is out there might not be alone."

"Aye aye." Tolstoy answered, crossing the square to take cover in the doorway of another module while the two ensigns held position. Marshall and Smoke took three strides into the open, hoping to draw attention towards them rather than the less experienced members of the team.

"I take it you saw the flash of metal, then." Smoke asked.

"Mmm hmm." Marshall answered. "Not likely a wild animal."

The chatter caused a reaction, as the glint of steel vanished, and it tried to move to a different position.

"Smart too." Smoke added. "Knows what we're saying."

"Good hearing." Marshall said. It was time to end this charade. "I am Captain Marshall Brasser. I know you can hear me, and understand me. Come out, and let's talk."

The response was the glimmer of steel reappearing. Talking apparently was not going to be an option. Smoke and Marshall lunged in opposite directions as their location was promptly filled by the sound of automatic weapons fire.

Smoke rolled, and rose to a kneeling position, squeezing off three short bursts of fire, which if they hit their target didn't even faze whatever he was shooting at, as the original weapons fire didn't even pause, and instead followed Smoke's path, forcing him into cover behind Tolstoy. A couple seconds of mass accelerated rounds pinged off the module wall before a break in fire finally came, courtesy of Marshall drawing their opponent's attention with two shots, one that cut into the foliage and one that made a heavy sound of impacting metal.

"Nice shot!" Smoke cheered.

"Not really. I was aiming for where I thought its head was." Marshall replied, keeping his gun forward.

Their attacker chose then to abandon any sense of subtlety, the sounds of crunching plant life following a flurry of flying leaves and weeds as a massive body burst into the relatively open town square.

It did not look like it would be particularly nimble, nearly as wide as it was tall, and legs surprisingly short for its size, had its movements not proven otherwise. It was also powerfully built, densely packed muscle with a height that Marshall guessed would be near three meters if it stood up fully. Four sets of eyes and a triangular mouth, filled with hundreds of sharp teeth as what passed for lips flared with deep intakes of breath. A pair of flattened horn-like protuberances topped the head.

Evidence of its intelligence came from the gigantic rifle it was holding in its right hand, although the barrel was now irreparably damaged where Marshall's second shot had struck it, as well as tatters of a black material hung from its left shoulder to its waist, where it met with equally ragged remains of what might have been trousers or shorts, clinging tightly to deep brown, blood stained skin.

Fortunately, Marshall was very deft on his feet as well, otherwise the creature's charge would have at least promised considerable, if not fatal, damage. As it was, the monstrous humanoid nearly topped over the module Grimes and O'Carter had taken cover in just in its collision with the ruin.

O'Carter chose that time to be brave, breaking cover to try and lure the beast away from Grimes location. To his credit, a surprisingly accurate number of the rounds from his assault rifle found its mark... not that they seemed to do much more than make the towering creature angrier.

Marshall had sensed this was going to be trouble from the moment O'Carter made his move, and even then it was a race against time to pull the Recluse from his back and gain a bead on his target as it made another roaring charge, this time towards the now shell-shocked ensign.

Had the captain been half a second slower, O'Carter would probably have been dead. Instead, Marshall's shot struck the massive creature directly in the side of the temple. What would have been a straight up kill shot to any other lifeform Marshall knew about did nothing but cause the thing to stagger, drop to one knee, then glare back at Marshall with blood leaking down its face.

This was going to require some... extreme measures.

Marshall and his opponent locked eyes in a wary stare down, the creature apparently reaching the correct conclusion that the captain was the greatest threat among the group. Without breaking that eye contact, Marshall ordered, "Commander, lead everyone back to the LZ. Have Chipper ready for extraction. Leave immediately if my life signs fail."

Grimes was quick to protest. "Sir! You can't possibly stop that thing alone!"

"That's an _order_, Ensign. Rest assured it will only get _more _dangerous for you and everyone else if you stay."

Smoke caught on quickly enough to Marshall's intentions. "Come on!" He shouted. "Move it! _Now!_"

The rest of the landing party reluctantly followed Smoke's orders, even as they made such protests clear even as they retreated. "We can't leave the captain back there!" Grimes continued to insist.

"Girl, you have _no _idea what you're talking about. He wants us to bug out because he doesn't want any of us in the crossfire."

Not liking what Marshall was about to do was putting it mildly. There was a _reason _he hadn't gone this far since the Day After Affair, and it wasn't simply because Nimea and Sedin were currently in a state of non-aggression. What he was about to use had taken far too much from him, and he didn't want any more friendly souls on his conscience.

Marshall's opponent watched his squad fall back, and finally displayed the intelligence Marshall figured it had. "Sacrificing yourself to save your crew?" It asked mockingly, its voice throaty and a deep, rumbling bass. "The strong should never give itself for the weak."

Marshall was quite curious how this being could speak a language the translator could understand, Terran English from what his translator was telling him, but that was a curiosity he would at best have to file away for another time... if he ever got the chance to query at all.

Marshall put his rifle away, and turned to his omni-tool, beginning the command sequence he had put to memory years ago. "Hardly..." He began, his voice momentarily cut off as his voluntary functions were seized by the program that had just begun, the diagnostics listing on his HUD as they checked out.

_ Adrenal additives... clear._

_ Biotic accelerants... clear._

_ Neural shortcuts... clear._

_ Instinctual Combat Suite... loaded._

_ Medi-Gel bath... clear._

_ Shock Absorption Under-layer... clear_

_ Pain Supression System... loaded_

_ Muscle and Skeletal Fortification... clear._

_ Checking minor monitoring processes... clear._

_ Health Analysis... acceptable._

_ All systems clear._

_ Oni Combat Protocol... engaged._

The entire process completed in less than a second, not even enough time for Marshall's opponent to have entertained an attack from the relative distance both had. And by the time Marshall had regained voluntary movement, it was too late.

The captain slowly reached with his left hand over his back, drawing his sword with the sinister whistle of finely forged steel. His opponent couldn't have possible seen the grin on his face. Not that it needed to, as Marshall's tone of voice conveyed the meaning well enough.

"... I simply wanted to get them out of the way."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_"What the hell did Heimer Sedin do to the kid?"_

_ Marshall looked up towards the doorway. Admiral Moss couldn't possibly have any idea he was being overheard. That door was supposed to be soundproof, after all. This entire room was supposed to be nigh impenetrable... just like the damn cells Doctor Sedin had forced him in. Marshall wondered what the Admiral's face would look like when Marshall ripped down that door and drove his hand straight through the old man's throat._

_ "What __**didn't **__Heimer do?" Another voice replied, one that Marshall didn't have a face or name to match it with. "The man apparently was able to decipher something from the pieces of the Chronicle they were able to keep, and augmented it with the Phantom/Nemesis Project from before the First Civil War. This child been completely redesigned genetically."_

_ "That's why the bastard was targeting children?"_

_ "Most certainly. Children are more resilient on a genetic level and their cellular structure completely recycles more often. He'd see the results of his work faster. As for the rest... well, he's a sadistic son of a bitch."_

_ "That the reason for the 'Oni'?"_

_ "That's the part he no doubt got from the Chronicle. We knew about it, but I guess he was finally the one that was able to translate it to human physiology. This kid doesn't feel pain... no remorse... higher brain functions are effectively shut off, controlled by the implants in his brain, and he acts on raw instinct. A instinct fueled by nearly thirty times more adrenaline than the human body can rightfully stand and enough eezo to make a legion of biotic commandos jealous."_

_ There was a long silence, before the unknown voice spoke again. "Sir... this boy could be the most useful single piece of personnel we have ever had. If we can channel him through the military..."_

_ "Absolutely not." Moss said vehemently, starting Marshall. The big brass didn't want to recruit him? That was new._

_ "Sir..."_

_ "That boy has already been put through hell. Get that 'Oni' out of him and we'll try to get him something resembling a normal life."_

_ "Sir, removing the 'Oni' is impossible. It's implanted directly onto his medulla. Removing it would be... fatal... sir. Heimer didn't want anyone breaking his toys."_

_ "Then what __**can **__we do?"_

_ "We're working on a VI controller than can... dampen the effects and give him the ability to control when and where it's fully active, rather than have it flare up whenever he's pushed into a high-adrenaline situation. It won't be perfect... but it can do for now."_

* * *

><p>It <em>had <em>gotten better. By this point in Marshall's life, the controller had been advanced to the degree where he barely felt the Oni's pull whenever it wasn't active. Coupled with the emotional control granted by extensive meditative training, he was able to be a fully functional member of society.

But when the monster was let loose... he learned how very little about it had changed.

It wasn't exactly true that his higher brain functions were shut off, really. It was more that the cybernetic enhancements acted so quickly, and triggered his instinctual responses so quickly, that his higher brain functions weren't able to keep up. He always felt like he was step slow reacting to the situation because of it... the best he could do was guide the Oni and hope that something horrible didn't happen.

_Flow like the water..._

As strong as this creature he was facing no doubt had to be, that strength meant little if it couldn't get its hands on him. Marshall's training, both as a child and as a specialist in the Nimea military, had honed his reflexes and acrobatics to the point where hand to hand sparring with him proved to be a frustration very few wished to engage in.

And while Marshall's foe was deceptively fast for his size... it still wasn't _nearly _fast enough. Big meaty hands swiped nothing but air. Attacks left it stumbling clumsily, giving Marshall ample opportunities at undefended flanks. Only the beast's absurdly thick and resilient hide kept those attacks from being serious or mortal.

_Strike like the wind..._

The monster was able to make some distance with a charge that missed its mark, allowing Marshall to activate his Tactical Decoy.

Tactical Cloak technology had been common even one hundred years before, but had some very notable flaws. The cloak wasn't perfect, especially if you were seen applying it; allowing opponents to follow the slightly warped lighting as it was redirected around you.

But combining the Tactical Cloak with the holographic Decoy technology created just enough of an illusion for the target to lose sight of the cloaked attacker. And that was exactly what happened in this case. In the split second it took for the massive creature to realize the decoy, Marshall had fully slipped into cloak, and was on the prowl.

His opponent was clearly aware of the nature of cloaking, as it slowly began circling, trying to identify the light warping that became clearer as the cloaked target approached. But as fast as Marshall moved in, it wouldn't have particularly helped.

Marshall was right in on the monster's left flank, his sword cutting upward and leaving a long, vicious gash from the hip up to the rib cage, then across the forearm from elbow to wrist as it swung back to counter. That _had _to have hurt, even with the creature's thick hide... an assessment that the reverberating roar confirmed. Blood flowed liberally from the wound, to the point that it was quickly and visibly staining the ground below

_Unyielding like the earth..._

Of course, no matter how nimble one is, it's inevitable that you are going to have to take a shot. Marshall would have liked that shot to have come from someone a little bit smaller than the monster he was engaged with, though.

It clipped him with a backhand that was deflected off his barrier, which was just enough to set him off balance for a flush body blow right to his chest. Again his barrier absorbed the blow, but it buckled, and was shattered when the third attack got him by the shoulder, grabbed, and threw him with enough force that it collapsed the module wall and into the ruined interior, bringing the rest of the module down with it, and burying Marshall under slabs of insulation and metal sheeting.

The creature approached warily, normally an understandable decision when in combat. But in this case, the reluctance to quickly investigate gave Marshall the opportunity to regenerate his barriers, and ready himself again.

_Overwhelming like fire..._

He forced himself out of the rubble with a biotic Nova, followed it up with a Warp, then a Biotic Charge in the time most biotics would still be recovering from the Nova. It was definitely a draining series of abilities, but the resulting crash and explosion ripped Marshall's foe completely off its feet, and landing in a most unceremonious manner, face first against the loose stones of the town square.

Before it could recover its balance, it was struck in the shoulder and side of the head by two rounds from Marshall's sidearm, forcing it to fall again and roll onto its back.

By the time it had forced itself onto its hands and knees, Marshall had reined in his own internal monster... at least enough to offer his opponent an opportunity for mercy.

"Come on." Marshall said, the hand holding his sidearm trembling from his efforts to contain the bloodthirsty instincts still raging. "_Make _me kill you."

Instead, the creature dropped his face to the ground in a submissive posture, and grumbled. "You have proven your superiority. I submit wholly to your authority, human Captain."

The Oni receded, if more by surprise than anything. Logically, Marshall had every reason to expect duplicity. Yet, there was something about the display, there was a underlying humility that Marshall couldn't quite put his finger on. His gut was telling him this was legit, as bizarre as it may have seemed.

Not that he had all that much time to dwell on it before more sounds from the wilderness caught his ear. Whatever it was wasn't making any attempt at stealth, and it was also coming in numbers rather than one individual.

A noise that the still unidentified creature also heard. "Here they come again..." It said, the fatigue in its voice more from whatever was approaching more than the fight.

Who "they" were didn't require Marshall asking, because the answer came without prompting in the form of a hideous visage of a vorcha. Old Alliance intelligence had said the species was infinitely adaptable, and had a cockroach like quality of somehow finding their way onto any number of planets.

Fortunately, they had about the same defenses against a matter round as anything else. The first vorcha's head was summarily turned into something resembling raspberry jelly with a single shot from Marshall's sidearm. With the reckless lack of fear vorcha were known for, five others advanced, calmly picked off one by one by the captain, the final one stopped roughly four meters from making contact.

"That's not all of them." His hulking opponent warned, even though Marshall knew that much already.

What Marshall had _not _been expecting was for the wary glimmer of hundreds of eyes to appear through the growth. "Okay... _that _is a bit troublesome." He remarked. This was a situation that called for a less than strategic retreat.

"This way! Follow me!" He shouted, breaking into a run, his former opponent following without any further invitation, just as the vorcha horde broke through the wilderness in hot pursuit. "Smoke, I'm bugging out." He then declared over the comm. "And I'm bringing company."

* * *

><p>Vorcha were not stupid. Alliance reports had been insistently clear on that fact from what Smoke had been made privy too before leaving Reticuli Prime. Their intelligence in many fields was certainly <em>limited<em>, but when it came to combat, they were extraordinarily cunning.

It was fortunate they didn't have weapons, because otherwise, all four of them would likely already be dead. As it was, Ensign Grimes had a sizeable chunk of her left thigh chomped off, and was reduced to a kneeling position in order to maintain fire.

To her credit, Smoke had seen supposedly superior Black Ops specialists "unable" to fight with lesser injury. Life or death was probably the best anesthetic in the galaxy.

Smoke had formed the group in a semi-circle, protecting the path they had cleared as well as the landing zone. Chipper was already making her descent, and preferred to not have to shake vorcha off her shuttle as she lifted off again.

As it was, they had pushed their attackers out of the clearing at least, although the numbers still lurking in the forest did not promise it was going to stay that way. Smoke stopped trying to count around forty. "O'Carter! Support Grimes!" Smoke ordered, shifting his position to compensate and firing a short burst from his rifle to dissuade an immediate push. They had quickly identified that Grimes's injury made it difficult for her to move, and were shifting their numbers in the wounded ensign's direction. "Valanov, keep an eye their direction too."

"Aye aye, Commander." Tolstoy replied.

"Flight Lieutenant, what's your ETA?" Smoke then asked into his helmet's comm.

"Just completed atmospheric entry." Chipper answered. "I'm taking a low altitude angle, just in case they have some AA weapons in hiding. So, if I make a flyby, that's just me confirming the coordinates."

Smoke felt that if these vorcha had anything resembling weaponry they would have used it by now. "Negative, Dean. We have no idea how long we can hold this position, and once the Captain gets here we're going to need immediate evac. We don't have time for a flyby."

"Copy that, sir." Chipped said, her displeasure evident. "But I'm blaming you if we're stuck on this poison planet."

Smoke bit off any reply because that was when the vorcha made their next push, almost exclusively from the east where Grimes and O'Carter had taken position. Tolstoy shifted their way as well while Smoke laid down suppressing fire in a wide arc, more interested in incapacitating the secondary rush rather than focusing on kills.

Relief seemed to come when the captain appeared, then concern when Smoke noticed the monster Marshall had been fighting following in hot pursuit and wielding the captain's sniper rifle. That concern shifted back to relief when Smoke identified that the beast was not firing at any of them, and instead was providing support fire. That relief _again _shifted to concern when Smoke realized the reason for the support fire was because both being pursued by what looked like a flowing tide of vorcha.

"Lieutenant!" Smoke barked. "Haul your ass!"

"Damn it, Commander. I'm coming!"

The thrum of the Yukon's engines finally reached Smoke's ears, the sound that his experience had associated with salvation on far too many Black Ops missions than he wanted to admit. The stub-nosed box of a shuttle appeared over the forest line a handful of seconds later, jerking to a hover then dropping swiftly, coming to a stop less than a meter above the ground.

The door popped open with a hiss, Marshall and Smoke taking up a cover position in front of the door. "O'Carter, Valanov, you two get Grimes in first. Go!" Smoke bellowed, his rifle bursts joining Marshall's sidearm rounds as the wounded ensign was heaved into the shuttle followed by her fellow armory officers.

"Get in there, Smoke!" Marshall ordered, the commander obliging with no complaint. He had absolutely no problem with the captain being the brave one.

Marshall then acknowledged the presence of his former opponent, still providing covering fire with Marshall's sniper rifle, and doing a pretty good job holding the Recluse steady from a standing position. The creature's eyes turned questioning in Marshall's direction, holding a faint hope but not expecting any.

"You too." Marshall finally said, jerking a thumb towards the shuttle. "Hurry up."

The massive humanoid actually caused the Yukon to list slightly as he hopped aboard, and momentarily panicking the crew inside before Marshall could ease their worries. "It's with me. At ease." Marshall hollered as he jumped aboard himself, taking back his rifle now that they were in relative safety. The hulking humanoid creature relinquished the weapon without any resistance, demonstrating it was willing to be peaceful, at least for the moment.

Chipper didn't even wait until the loading door had closed before she shot the lift thrusters to full power, only Smoke's quick reflexes keeping him from tumbling into said closing door.

The alien creature heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank you, human captain. I had been stranded on this planet for a very long time."

"Don't thank me yet." Marshall said darkly. "Because I have a lot of questions to ask, and if I don't like your answers, you're going to find out just how well you survive in a full vacuum."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Ensign Grimes should make a full recovery, Captain." The Kelsey VI declared. "Doctor Coyle wishes to commend Commander Takei for his quick thinking, using medigel in conjuction with anti-nitrates to nullify cyanide poisoning. It likely saved her life. The Doctor has recommended that Ensign Grimes be put on medical leave for the next ten days at the very least."

"Inform the doctor of my approval." Marshall replied, his attention split between the VI and preparing his report for High Command. "He'll have the final call on when Ensign Grimes is permitted to return to duty."

He sighed as he deleted, then rewrote the passage describing Grimes's injury for the fifth time. Having almost had two people under his command die on what was supposed to be a research and exploration mission couldn't be normal.

"Further, our prisoner in the brig has been identified as a yahg, according to Old Alliance intelligence. At the time of the Reaper War, it was an operating assumption of the Alliance that the yahg would likely be the prominent species in this current cycle."

"How much did the Old Alliance know about them?" Marshall asked.

"Sparse knowledge, Captain. Their homeworld was identified as Parnack, and that they were most likely an apex predator, based on physiology. They have a behavior model similar to a wolf pack of Earth; once a male had asserts its dominance, the remainder of the pack quickly submit to his authority. They were in the process of developing their first interstellar craft at the time of the Reaper War, the degree of its sophistication was uncertain."

"Would explain why that thing got so docile once I had the upper hand." Marshall grumbled. "And why it refuses to answer any questions unless I'm the one doing the asking."

"For the record, the yahg in the brig is a male, Captain." Kelsey VI amended. "And yes, if wolf pack authority is any gauge; until you establish its position within the 'pack', in this case the crew, it will only respond to you. Warning; placing it low in the pack order could cause direct challenge with the crew."

"Wonderful." Marshall groused, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He considered simply having the brig vented right then and ridding himself of a potentially catastrophic headache, but that silly little thing called human decency insisted that this yahg be given a chance to at least explain himself. "Let Commander Takei know I'm heading up to the brig now."

"Yes, Captain." The VI chirped, the hologram vanishing shortly thereafter.

The brig itself was on the first deck of the _Iwo Jima_, along the aft side across from the main gun station. Marshall wasn't exactly sure how much sense _that _made, but also acknowledged with the limited space on a freighter, that it was about the best place a brig could be put.

The yahg detainee had been placed in the farthest of the three cells, the alien creature sitting on his knees in the center of a folded pile of blankets and sheets, no doubt because the cot was nowhere _near _large enough to support his frame.

He had also eschewed the blanket that had been offered to cover himself with, content with what amounted to the rags he had been found in. He looked up once Marshall appeared in his line of vision, yet otherwise did not move.

"Bars _and _a kinetic barrier." The yahg noted, referring to the protective measures at the entry to his cell. "Humans are thorough, to say the least."

Marshall replied, "And the wall behind you can serve as an airlock and vent you into outer space at a moment's notice. Just in case you get any ideas."

"I have already submitted to your authority. I do not understand why you consider me a threat."

Marshall threw out his arms mockingly. "I can't _imagine _why I wouldn't find you trustworthy. Maybe it was the shooting at me and my crew and trying to kill us part."

"I apologize for that, Captain Brasser." The yagh answered. "I had assumed you and your crew were members of the human Alliance. I have since learned that was not the case."

"I'll get back to that thought, but let's start smaller." Marshall said. "Do you have a name?"

"I am Khull. I am yagh."

"I am aware of your species, and your origins." Marshall stated. "What I'm not sure about is how you got to be on Novi, a good quarter of the galaxy from Parnack."

"Mostly by accident. Mostly by sheer luck I hit _something_." Khull admitted. "When our mass relay collapsed, my people instantly began trying to reassemble it. When that failed, we tried to build a new one. The results were... mixed."

Marshall crossed his arms, and leaned against the starboard wall opposite Khull's cell. "What do you mean?"

"Firstly, the amount of resources to build a mass relay of the very small scale we managed took nearly everything our system had. Secondly, we had to determine a method of using the technology without a partner relay. As you can see, our first trial attempt did not meet my expectations."

"What happened?"

"My people developed a means where our constructed relay didn't reduce mass to zero, allowing traditional propulsion technology to gradually slow the craft upon reaching its destination." Khull explained. "It wouldn't have been the same instantaneous travel between relays, but it would still be magnitudes faster than FTL."

Marshall had to respect the yahg's ingenuity, especially since they most likely didn't have a cheat manual to develop their technology like Reticuli Prime had. "What went wrong?"

"Depends on what you think the actual goal was." Khull said. "The official response from Parnack was that they reduced the mass too much for my ship to slow down properly, and it was fortunate I hit the gravity well of Novi before I was shot out into dark space, and that they'd be sending aid as soon as possible."

"I gather you don't agree with that assessment?"

"Considering I received that one and only message from Parnack four years ago, yes."

Marshall raised his right eyebrow. "You've been marooned for four years?"

"Yes."

"I think it's safe to assume you had nothing to do with the colony's state then." Marshall surmised.

Kelsey VI cut into the conversation. "Judging from the state of the colony and orbital scans, the grounds had been in disrepair for an estimated ninety to one-hundred years, consistent with the end of the Reaper War. Scans also did find the wreckage of a craft in the vicinity that is consistent with the time frame our detainee claims. In addition, the marks found on the human remains on Novi are consistent with the fangs of vorcha, and not of yahg."

"I can understand how vorcha could survive on Novi, but how could you for four years?"

Khull replied, "Yahg are the apex predator of Parnack. Cyanide was one of the poisons our prey developed as a defense mechanism. Eventually, my species evolved to counter it. I can't say I particulary _enjoy _eating cyanide laced food, but it's not fatal or even particularly damaging to my kind."

"Very well." Marshall answered, deciding they were drifting off the questions he needed answered. "So, your homeworld didn't send help. Why?"

"I was in line to take command of Parnack, when I was bested by one lower in the chain. He decided to dispose of me rather than risk me returning the favor." Khull replied, "It was rather transparent, but I didn't have the strength to oppose him, and thus had to acquiesce to his authority."

"Is that what you're going to do if you ever think you have the strength to challenge me?" Marshall asked.

"That entirely depends on you." Khull answered. "My species isn't wired to make a challenge to one higher in the hierarchy on a whim. If I feel your leadership is satisfactory, I don't see any particular reason to challenge you."

"Assuming I believe that, why would you attack me and my crew because you thought we were Alliance?"

Khull's lips flared slightly, passing a sound similar to a hiss of disgust. "It's not so much Alliance, but their association with the Galactic Council species as a whole. My people and the Council have a... unfriendly relationship, at best."

"The Council claimed that your people slaughtered a diplomatic envoy sent to begin discourse."

Khull scoffed. "Is _that _what they called it? Because my people recall it going slightly differently."

"Do tell."

"The 'envoy' was a sham constructed as a cover by the Salarians. While the envoy blathered endlessly about the merits of joining the 'galactic whole', Salarian operatives were abducting my people to potentially fight the krogan if they ever got over that genophage thing. When my people discovered the ploy... yes, we executed the envoy and her entourage. We didn't realize until it was too late that we had played into the Salarians' scheme. The Council declared Parnack off limits, allowing the Salarians to covertly continue their abductions without having to worry about my people reporting their crimes."

Khull leveled his eyes squarely on Marshall. "Can yahg be violent? Yes. Can we be cruel and merciless? Indeed. But we are _not _barbaric savages, no matter what the Council wants to believe. If a yahg is trying to kill you, rest assured it is for a very good reason."

"To the yahg, at any rate." Marshall retorted. "For the time being, I hope you aren't insulted if I don't give you free rein on this ship. Whether a misunderstanding or not, I tend to be suspicious of people whose first response is to open fire." He then set Khull's place in the 'pack' with his next words. "In the meantime, you will answer to no one but me. You will accept no orders from anyone else, and you will give no orders to anyone else. Am I clear?"

Khull bowed his head respectfully. "Yes, Captain Brasser."

Marshall said nothing further, instead making his leave. He had a report to finish and present to the O-9 board.

* * *

><p>To Marshall's surprise, High Command was receptive to Khull's story.<p>

"That _does _sound like Salarian STG." Chair Admiral Parker said, drumming his fingers together in front of his face. "A _lot _like Salarian STG, honestly."

"You believe him?" Marshall asked, the surprise in his voice evident.

"I believe the more pertinent question is, do you? He's on _your _ship, after all."

Marshall gave the question some thought. "Do I trust him not to wreak havoc if let loose? Not particularly. I'm not particularly sold that he's simply a political exile. But despite that, I'm loathe to simply drop him off at the nearest habitable world. He's not an _immediate _threat, and I figure time will tell if first impressions were indeed a mere misunderstanding."

"Regardless, this Khull was abandoned by his people for a reason, and I would recommend cooperating with others of his kind if you decide to entertain his presence for more than a short period. I'd rather not anger another spacefaring species if we can help it."

"Yes, sir." Marshall said, even as he didn't exactly agree with the sentiment unilaterally. If it came down to appeasing a corrupt leadership or defending an innocent exile, Marshall would be strongly inclined to support the latter even if it would be bothersome to High Command.

The admiral knew that too. "Advice you will probably ignore if Khull's telling of events is accurate, no doubt." He took a steadying breath. "I won't make it an order, Captain. The O-9 wouldn't have accepted you as the commanding officer of this expedition if we couldn't trust your judgment."

"Thank you, sir."

Parker then cracked a smile. "And with all this talk about potential enemies, I suppose I should balance things out with some news about confirmed allies."

"Oh?" Marshall asked in curiosity.

"Parliament is ready to announce that we have negotiated a preliminary alliance with Rannoch."

Nimea didn't waste any time, Marshall mused. "What are the details pertaining to this alliance, sir?"

"Initially, nothing more than trade. The quarians are exceptionally adept technicians and engineers, many of the components they build are at least equal, if not superior, to anything we can construct. Did you know the Iktomi was nearly a hundred and sixty years old? We can't construct _anything _that reliable and keep it maintained."

"And I'm sure the fact that having alien allies, even if several years away, is a nice card to play in order to put political pressure on Sedin." Marshall noted.

"That was _not _expressly articulated in the initial treaty, but I have no doubt that it was implied during the negotiations." Parker confirmed. "Although, simply the fact that we are engaging and reaching agreements with extra-terrestrial nations would do the trick to some degree."

"And what do the quarians get out of this treaty?" Marshall asked. He suspected he had an idea, but wanted it confirmed.

"Most notably, the design for the Needlepoint Drive and Mobius Core." Parker said, a slight frown crossing his features as he spoke. It was clear he wasn't entirely keen on surrendering what was a stark technological advantage. "Weapon and barrier technology sharing are not included in this treaty, thankfully, but the agreement allows for it to be negotiated at a later date."

"Let's be honest, sir, once we discovered there was actually advanced life still out here in this big galaxy, it was pretty much guaranteed that we'd be sharing at the means to get around viably with others." Marshall said. "And I suspect even Parliament will want to keep any military edge for some time."

"That's true enough." Parker replied. He probably understood this, even if there was a part of him that was never going to like it. "Although, I should explain how this treaty is directly pertinent to you, Captain."

"Directly, you say?"

"In light of this treaty, and your own glowing recommendations, High Command is granting Lieutenant Dani'Arah access to the Iwo Jima's armory, on the grounds that she is not permitted to do her own maintenance or to discuss the nature of our offensive and defensive technologies to anyone outside of your vessel."

Marshall wondered how strong of vice grips Parliament (with help from Jonas, no doubt) needed to pry that concession out of High Command. No doubt the events on Hercules Station had given those elements the opportunity to argue that it might not be considered good for any treaty if the liaison officer on the Iwo Jima were to be killed while the means to improve her survival odds went unused.

"I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture, sir."

"Yes, I'm sure." Parker replied icily. If he disliked the idea of sharing drive and core technology, he disliked the idea of sharing armory technology with even one quarian even _less_.

"Is there anything else, sir?" Marshall asked.

"Not at this time, Captain. We look forward to your next report. O-9 out."

The display went dark, and Marshall afforded himself a laugh of amusement. He suspected he knew why the Chair Admiral was not fond of these developments, and it wasn't the seemingly obvious one. Admiral Parker was actually more inclined towards apathy towards Nimea's sister country, believing that their entire nation was due to collapse under its own weight.

The treaty with the quarians, however, gave Nimea some capital to be more aggressive, and there was little doubt Parliament knew it, especially after the bruised egos that came at the end of the Oceanic War. They would want to press the issue, and would.

Not that Marshall disagreed with Parliament on this score. Prognosticators had been predicting the collapse of Sedin since the Second Civil War, and yet it was still there. As long as its ruling family still had male successors to maintain the fraternal line, he doubted the nation was going anywhere.

But that was speculation for another time. Marshall figured he had current events to break to his crew. Leaving his quarters, he stepped onto the bridge, the crew outside of the helmsmen turning and snapping to attention as was customary.

"As you were." Marshall declared, watching them swiftly return to their duties. "Lieutenant Dani'Arah, did you ever head down to the armory to get your new gear?"

The navigator spun about in her chair, and shook her head. "No, sir. I know you told me I could... but I didn't want to get you, or myself, in any trouble."

"Well, you've got no excuse now." He said with a mischievous smile. "Head down there now and get refitted. High Command's orders."

The commander raised his eyebrows. "High Command's orders?" His eyes then narrowed as he turned to face his captain. "What animal was Admiral Parker caught fucking, and how did Jonas get the pictures?"

"I don't know, but I know the official excuse is the alliance treaty that Rannoch and Nimea just finalized." Marshall replied. "I am supposed to inform you, Lieutenant, that you are not permitted to take our guns apart and catalog them for your people at this time. All maintenance and repairs will be done by our armory crew, understand?"

Dani nodded enthusiastically. "Understood, Captain!"

"Then get moving." Then adding in jest, "Smoke, accompany her to make sure she doesn't do anything improper. Get a few pictures of her trying to _hold _some of our guns."

Dani's face turned with confusion. "I don't understand. Is there something about your weapons that requires five fingers? Because I can't say I noticed a difference in design."

Smoke grinned knowingly, but was clearly unwilling to let her in on the secret. "Oh, you'll see."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Despite Dani's repeated queries, Smoke refused to relinquish any further information.

"I said, 'you'll see.'" He reiterated. "I don't wanna ruin the fun for the Captain, okay?"

Dani's eyes narrowed suspiciously as the elevator finally came to a stop on the fourth deck, sliding open into the adjoining hall. "You are incorrigibly irritating, bosh'tet."

"Whatever you just said, fucker."

He took the first steps into the hall, grinning cheekily, Dani holding back to the point that the elevator doors almost closed on her again before she could exit. She huffed indignantly before falling back in stride behind the commander, turning towards the armory at the fork.

"Lieutenant!" Smoke bellowed as he crossed the threshold into the Armory. "Where ya at?"

Ensign O'Carter jumped at the noise, dropping his wrench, then turning around from his position tweaking the Yukon's port side thruster vent. Tolstoy's head popped up from over the maintenance desk on the port side of the armory he had been leaning over. "Commander." He acknowledged, business-like, straightening and stepping around the desk to approach Smoke and Dani. "What can do for you today, sir?"

"High Command and the Captain want Lieutenant Dani'Arah here geared up... proper-like, this time." Smoke said. "Ya know... the _good _stuff."

Tolstoy's lips slowly turned upward in that same knowing grin plastered across Smoke's face. This annoyed Dani even more than she already was. "Get to the point, bosh'tets!" She hissed, her fingers clenching into fists.

Tolstoy beckoned Dani to follow him to the weapons locker with a finger. "Come along, Lieutenant. We'll get you geared."

The lockers were on the fore end of the armory, along the perimeter surrounding the shuttle bay. It was split into two sections, the general locker where reserve weapons or weapons being repaired were stored, and the personnel locker for each crewman.

"Your typical loadout is a shotgun and sidearm, if I remember, yes?" Tolstoy asked Dani.

"Correct." Dani replied.

Tolstoy stopped at Smoke's locker, and asked, "May I, Commander?"

Smoke nodded in approval, still wearing that broad, taunting smile. "Be my guest, Lieutenant."

Tolstoy popped open Smoke's locker, then reached in to pull out the Commander's shotgun. "This is the M-22 Decapitator, the strongest weapon of its class in pure stopping power, carrying an adjustable splitter barrel that allows for either one bunched cluster at medium range, or up to a 3 meter spray at lesser range. It may feel a bit odd to hold as it is customized for the Commander here, so if you like the model we can do the same for you."

With that, he handed the shotgun over to Dani, only to have her arms damn near yanked out of her shoulder sockets as the gun changed hands.

"Gah!" Dani yelped, recovering quickly, her back bending forward to compensate as she pulled the astonishingly weighty weapon to a more comfortable position against her abdomen. "Keelah, that's _heavy_!"

Tolstoy and Smoke laughed, and the armory chief acknowledged, "Very. Probably about three times heavier than the gun you're using currently. In addition to having the most stopping power, it also has the most weight in its class. We have other options that will no doubt be much more suitable to you."

The armory chief took the weapon back, Dani seeing the strain in the tendons of Tolstoy's wrists as he did so. "The recoil on that thing must be obscene." She said.

"Actually, no recoil at all." Tolstoy replied. "At the point of leaving the barrel, our weapons are effectively energy weapons. No mass leaving the barrel, no kickback. Good God, if a thing that heavy had any kick..."

"I'd be walking back with broken ribs after every mission." Smoke finished.

"That would explain the weight." Dani said thoughtfully. The quarians had been experimenting with energy weapons, finding that the technology needed to make them viable on a small scale would be both cost and weight prohibitive. The eezo generator needed to create the energy was not light. But at the same time... "But I've seen these weapons hit like kinetic guns. How...?"

She cut her own question off. They likely weren't permitted to discuss the nuances of this technology, and it would be unfair to put them in that position.

Smoke and Tolstoy however, didn't appear to share her concerns. "Think we can trust her, Lieutenant?" Smoke asked.

Tolstoy shrugged in mock indifference. "I couldn't tell her how to build one. I can only tell her how it works. I don't see the harm in that. Even if she could piece it together for her people, it's not like they aren't gonna figure out something like it on their own."

Smoke patted Dani on the shoulder. "Matter cannons work in kinda the same way as the Needlepoint Drive. The target is painted and it creates a miniature gravity well that compresses nearby matter. The energy fired from the weapon itself, like most energy weapons, is able to pass through kinetic barriers, impacts that compressed matter, then..." Smoke then threw his hands apart to reinforce the, "... boom!"

Dani was no engineer. She was a programmer by trade. If Nimea's High Command expected her to be able to relay how to build matter weapons from the description she had been given, they were grossly overestimating the average Quarian intelligence. "O... okay. If you say so. I suppose being able to subvert traditional kinetic barriers would be a significant advantage. I assume that is what your magnetic barriers are designed to stop?"

"That's a later step, dear girl." Tolstoy said, holding up a finger to stop her train of thought. "First, let's get you some weapons you're comfortable with. We'll worry about the defenses later."

From there, Tolstoy was reaching into the reserve locker, handing over several shotguns of varying weight to find one that Dani felt she could handle for prolonged periods. She discovered as they moved closer to the "standard issue" weapons that they weren't all that much heavier than what she was used to.

Finally, on the eighth offering, she found one that was satisfactory. It was still fairly weighty, but it felt like something she could carry without too much discomfort. "Yes, I think this one will suit."

That earned a handful of snerks and guffaws from the two men, and again, Dani's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What now?"

Tolstoy tried to shake his head to ward off her accusing glare, not that it helped any. "That... shotgun is called the M-24 Flower."

Smoke nodded, "He's... not kidding."

Dani growled in annoyance. "You two are being so... so... male."

That caused both men to laugh harder. Tolstoy attempted to soothe the matter, even if his sporadic chuckles shattered that attempt. "It's _actually _named the Flower because of its spread pattern, spiraling outward from the central point, somewhat like the petals of a flower. It's honestly the most efficient damage to energy shotgun the Nimea military has... hence why it's also one of the lightest."

"Mmm hmm." Dani replied, unconvinced, but unwilling to argue the point further.

The armory chief decided to change the topic, "I'll betcha finding a suitable pistol will be easier though. Here." He tossed one pulled from the middle rack to the quarian navigator, who to her relief caught it without much trouble. While expectedly heavier than her normal sidearm, the weight did feel more balanced in her hand.

"The M-8 Lancer. Not the most scintillating pistol you'll find; but reliable and marketed for its ease of use. The generator is located near the butt rather than closer to the barrel, so the weight falls more on your wrist rather than your fingers."

"It should suit." Dani noted.

"Well then, why do you hop on over to the test range while I see what I can do about changing out the generator in your armor?"

"Wait... you're going to _change _my barrier generator?" Dani protested. "Why?"

"Once you get one of these in your suit, you'll know." Tolstoy promised, picking up a magnetic barrier underlayer, rolled up, and shaking it in his hand. "I shouldn't have to rip up your armor too much."

"Just let him do his thing, Lieutenant." Smoke advised. "It'll be okay."

"But... but..." Dani whimpered as the commander put his hand on the small of her back and guided her towards the other end of the armory. "For what reason is this necessary?"

Smoke sighed comically and teased, "Now you're _trying _to pry out all our secrets."

"I am _not_!" Dani yelled, stomping her foot as she came to a sudden halt. By the time Smoke turned to face the Lieutenant, Dani looked on the verge of tears. "A... quarian's suit... is a... it's become ingrained in our society. It's more than just armor. It's an expression of who we are. Every suit is unique... each has it's own style that represents us as much as our names and appearance do."

She looked up at the commander with a mix of determination and sadness. "So yes, sir, if you are going to start fiddling around with my suit, I want to know damn well what is being put in there and why."

It didn't seem right to try and say that he was just jerking her around, so Smoke got right to it. "Magnetic barriers, pound for pound, are considerably superior to their kinetic brethren." Smoke informed. "Uses less energy so it can take more punishment, recharges faster, and can protect you from matter rounds as well as kinetic rounds. It uses electromagnetic fields to redirect weapons fire rather than outright stopping it. It takes a lot less energy to redirect the momentum of something than to absorb it, you know?"

"But... how can a barrier stop energy weapons?"

"Because even energy can be warped by magnetic fields. It's not one hundred percent effective, but it redirects a large chunk of that energy, and thus minimizing the detonation of the matter round. Sure, we probably won't be facing anyone who has that technology, I hope, but even then, our barrier technology _is _better than what you have."

Dani looked back one last time towards the armory lockers, where Tolstoy had already begun the process of pulling out her old underlayer. She whimpered once, but choked back any further worry. "Very well, commander." Turning back to face him. "Lead on."

The testing range was it's own separate room on the fourth deck, barely , a holographic screen representing various distances for the personnel. Smoke and Dani were a little surprised to see that there was already an occupant; Jessie firing off a series of pistol rounds at her programmed target.

"I was wondering why you weren't on the bridge, Lieutenant Michal." Smoke said, startling Jessie into pulling her last shot far to the left, so far that Dani cringed in worry that the comm officer was about to inadvertently shoot them both.

"Commander!" Jessie yelped, lowering her weapon. "Yes, I was scheduled for firing range time. Gotta keep my quals up after all, right?"

"Right." Smoke answered, then noticed Dani's fearful cower. "Relax, fucker. She's got a core bolt installed," referring to the now obvious black rod sticking horizontally through the butt of the pistol. Smoke grabbed Dani's shotgun, pointing at the hole in which he slid a similar bolt into. "This disables the dark matter compressor, so that the only thing that comes out is the relatively harmless energy stream. The computers take that energy bolt, and calculate then project the results."

The projector did indeed do just that, displaying Jessie's results on the screen; results that made Smoke whistle. "Damn, Lieutenant. 44 of 45... 37 head shots... 41 kill shots... your only miss was that last one, wasn't it?"

Jessie blushed. "Yes, sir."

Smoke added. "What was your range... one hundred meters plus? With a _pistol_? I mean, sure, you got it scoped and all... but a _pistol_?"

If Jessie blushed any brighter, Dani was worried the lieutenant's head would explode. "I... I'm pretty good with a pistol, I guess."

Dani's eyes bulged. "Pretty good? I haven't seen snipers get those sort of numbers with personally customized rifles. Even if your weapons have no recoil, that sort of accuracy is obscene!"

Jessie shrugged. "Always had a good eye, I guess. My grandpa-pa liked to call me his little Eagle-Eye." She looked down at her feet, and said, "My dream when I entered the military was to be a Black Ops sharpshooter... but I didn't make the cut."

"If you didn't make the cut, I hope I never see the killing machines that did." Dani said in awe.

"You already have, actually. Two of them." Smoke answered. "You call them Captain Brasser and Bosh'tet." Giving Jessie and appraising once over, he added, "But I suspect the reason the Lieutenant here didn't make the cut had nothing to do with her shooting."

"No?" Dani said. "Why then?"

He winked and said, "Better to just show ya why. Be right back." Smoke then disappeared from the testing range, momentarily leaving Jessie and Dani to themselves.

"I... did pass the accuracy quals." Jessie explained. "But I failed the physical requirements. Rather badly."

"Oh?" Dani asked, trying very hard to ignore the fact that she was alone with the 'kitten-cute' comm officer and looking oh so adorably vulnerable. "How badly?"

"I'm one hundred and sixty centimeters and fifty one kilograms when soaking wet. I am simply not physically capable of doing what Black Ops units are expected to do."

Dani really wished Jessie wouldn't use the phrase "soaking wet" to describe herself. It was bad enough that the navigator had all sorts of inappropriate thoughts running through her head. "I... see..." Dani said, trying to pretend she was still listening.

"Dani?" Jessie asked, still blushing. "Can I ask you something?"

The quarian woman blinked. "Of... of course!"

Whatever the question was died before it passed Jessie's lips, because Smoke took that opportunity to burst back into the testing range, holding a very large sniper rifle that Dani identified as belonging to Captain Brasser. "Here we go, ladies. This... is the M-93 Recluse. About the only things more powerful than this bastard here need to be mounted on vehicles."

He held the weapon out for Dani, who nervously accepted the exchange, only to yelp in surprise as its weight yanked her straight down. "Nghgigi!" She grunted as the butt of rifle smacked with a dull thud onto the deck.

Smoke held his left hand in front of his mouth, his chest quivering with silent laughter. "Careful, fucker. Don't break the captain's toys."

The quarian woman tightened her grip and set her jaw, pulling with all her might simply to lift the Recluse a scant handful of centimeters off the deck. "Neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..." She hissed with strain.

Smoke leaned over towards Jessie and mumbled, "She makes the most adorable little noises, don't she?"

Jessie flushed again, fascinated with her feet. "Yes. I suppose."

Meanwhile, Dani had seemed to earn a minor victory with the Recluse, settling the butt onto her hip, her right hand on the stock, and her left hand on the undercarriage above the trigger guard. Everything looked and felt normal until she shifted her lower hand to settle the rifle on her left shoulder. The shift in weight was more than she anticipated, bending her back and eventually causing her to lose her balance. "Ni... ach... bosh'tet!" She yelped as she fell backwards, crashing onto the deck, the back of her head bouncing off the unforgiving floor and sending pretty stars through her eyes.

Dani and Smoke heard the quarians pitiful mew of "Help," and it stirred them into action. Smoke quickly lifted the recluse off of Dani as Jessie kept the woman from getting up.

"You could have a concussion, Dani." Jessie warned. "Hold still for a moment."

A quick omni-tool scan and a handful of simple questions convinced Jessie that Dani was not concussed, and was clear to sit up. "Keelah, that thing is beyond heavy. That's gotta be at least fifty kilos!"

"Fifty-seven to be exact." Smoke confirmed. "I know you wouldn't think so with the way the captain flips it around like its made of paper. But yeah, that's pretty much why Lieutenant Michal didn't make the Black Ops cut. You gotta be able to carry beasts like that one... and for prolonged periods of time over kilometers of distance if need be."

He winked at Jessie teasingly, and said, "You're lucky you're too valuable as the comm officer to risk, though. With that sort of shooter's eye, the captain would no doubt like having you on his survey parties."

"I wouldn't object, sir." Jessie answered, the red finally gone from her cheeks. "I wouldn't have joined the Nimea military if I wasn't ready or willing to fight."

"Well, aren't you just the perfect pocket-sized soldier?" Smoke said, the humor slowly bleeding out of his voice. "Alright, we'll keep that in mind. It's at least good to know our language expert can handle herself with a gun."

He focused on Dani, and said, "Now, with that aside, let's work out the calibrations on your new toys, Lieutenant, so that we can fit it up for you. Time's a wastin'!"


	18. Chapter 18

_Author's Note: We're nearing a fairly important part of the story coming up, and so I'm looking for some feedback here._

_This story "canon-wise", is based off the assumption that Shepard didn't romance ANYONE (it's a bit more easy to plot the key events that way). However, I am open to writing up additional "past choices" scenes, which would be hosted on my website rather than in the story here, exploring the possible romantic options between Shepard and his LIs._

_With enough feedback, I'll write up some of these scenes for you when they are pertinent (Doesn't have to assume a BroShep, though. If enough people want to see FemShep's reactions, I'm open to that too). Feel free to leave a review with whatever LI you want to see represented (doesn't have to be one either, if you have two or more LIs you want to see, ask away), and I'll work from there._

**Chapter 18**

"Coming up on the Argus Rho cluster, Captain. ETA, two minutes."

Chipper's announcement drew Marshall's attention, away from the letter he had been composing for Kelsey, and onto the coming task. The Phoenix System, located within the Argus Rho sector, was a locale of considerable interest to High Command, most notably due to Pinnacle Station.

High Command figured the top secret Spectre training grounds would have been a hotbed for storing information on the Reaper War, and if not stored there, would likely have clues as to where such information could be found.

On top of that, Marshall had learned that it held considerable quarian interest as well, as the Hydra system had been one of the overflow staging grounds for the geth and quarian fleets during the long relay jump to Earth for the supposed final battle of the Reaper War. Dani felt it was possible that they'd find some sign of the fate of the quarian fleet within the system.

They found a little more than that.

They emerged from the wormhole into the Hydra System. It had been closer to their origin point for their jump, and had another mass relay for NMRD to compile information from. There was the expected debris field that marked where a mass relay had once been... and at the other edge of the inner system; a mess of twisted metal that looked like five ships had all tried to occupy the same space at the same time.

Dani was able to identify them before Ensign Mayes could announce the results of the scans. "Captain!" She gasped. "Those... are _geth _ships!"

"She's right, sir." Mayes confirmed. "The designs match what we know of the geth fleet. Scans suggest there are five cruisers, and possibly the remains of a sixth small destroyer or frigate sandwiched in that mess. It's hard to confirm that through that ball of mess."

"Which begs the question why the geth did something like that in the first place." Marshall wondered. "Were the geth somehow notoriously poor pilots or something, Dani?"

"If anything, they were unnaturally precise in their formations." The quarian woman answered. "Maybe they glitched... or... something? A virus? I... don't know."

The comm opened, and Lance spoke up from Engineering. "Captain, I think I might have an answer."

"I'll take a 'maybe' over a 'don't know' every time, LC."

"Well, sir, like the mass relays and the Reaper corpses we've discovered, the geth ships are radiating the same magnetic field."

"Makes sense." Dani mused. "Just like the geth on Rannoc, they would have Reaper tech and software code in their platforms."

"However, I'm getting a lot more... static... from these ships." Lance informed. "The field isn't as strong as any of the others we've scanned. Hell, it's not even a third as strong as the one surrounding the mass relay in this system. I'm not sure if that's a consequence of the geth just have _parts _of Reaper tech, or what... but..." The chief engineer let his voice drop off, as if _he _wasn't even sure about what he was going to say.

Marshall prodded further, "But..."

"If the decay of the field is consistent with other samples we've seen... it's _possible _that the center of that mess was unaffected by The Pulse."

"You mean, the ships on the outside formed a makeshift sort of Faraday Cage?"

"Possibly." Lance asserted. "I'm not sure how effective it would have been, but _if _The Pulse had the same properties of an EMP, it's _possible _that the outer ships _could _have protected the one on the inside from it."

Marshall got the hint quickly after that. "But the only way to know that is if we were to actually go in there and find out."

"Who wants to go into the spooky geth ghost ship?" Chipper asked sarcastically. "Not it."

"Smoke, Dani, suit up."

Dani cringed. "Why me?"

"Because you probably know more about the geth than everyone else on this crew put together." Marshall answered. "Besides, I suspect if anything was still alive in there, that it would have made its presence known before now. I'd refrain from poking things with your shotgun just in case, though."

Marshall was prepared to comm the armory, when he caught the ship's comm officer out of the corner of his eye. He gave his idea some thought, then asked the helm, "Are you picking up _any _life signs on board, Ensign Mayes?"

"No signs of heat or movement, sir." The ensign answered. "Can't tell if there's anything electrical going on through all the magnetic interference, though."

"Lieutenant Michal. Suit up." Marshall then ordered. "You'll be taking Ensign Grimes's place on this run."

Jessie was so astonished by the order that she wasn't sure she heard right. "Sir?"

"Get down to the armory and suit up." Marshall repeated. "Hurry up now."

Jessie snapped eagerly to attention and saluted, her face brightening. "Yes, sir!" She chirped, earning a low chuckle from much of the bridge crew as she damn near _floated _over to the elevator.

* * *

><p>"Dani, are you <em>sure <em>my seals are okay?"

There were times where even 'kitten cute' had its limits, apparently. The quarian rolled her eyes, and said, "Keelah! For the last time, Jessie, the seals are _fine_. You're not going to get squeezed out of your suit!"

Jessie had been worried that she hadn't put on her armor right for zero atmosphere conditions, even after Marshall, Smoke, Dani, Tolstoy, _and _O'Carter _all _assured her that everything was fine. It was something that apparently still worried her, even as the shuttle was approaching the docking bay chosen for their injection.

"O... okay." Jessie replied. "I... I just... I don't wanna screw up."

"Lieutenant!" Marshall barked, drawing both women's attention. "You're fine. Honest."

Jessie _knew_ that, of course... but she had hard time "knowing" it. She had went through her pre-academy years hearing all about the Oceanic War, and hearing the name Brasser repeated from family and military reports. The heroism of his, and other, Black Ops teams turned what had been another cluster-fuck waiting to happen by the Nimea Parliament into a semi-salvaged campaign.

Her grandpa-pa couldn't shut up about the seemingly invincible captain, and it had fueled Jessie's desire to be a Black Ops specialist herself. The idea of _ever _serving with the Oceanic hero had been a fanciful dream, at best... to be actually working an op, even a surveying one, had put Jessie's brain on high alert.

You didn't get a second chance to make a first impression, and all that.

"If, through some bizarre twist of fate we wind up in a firefight in there, just hide behind the commander and use him for cover." Marshall advised.

"Or, I could just toss you onto my shoulders. Instant high ground!" Smoke suggested playfully. "Ya know, I really think Black Ops missed out on some unconventional strategies by having such high physical quals. I could've tossed someone like the lieutenant over some of those entrenched positions that were such a bother for us."

The banter served to break Jessie out of her nerves. "Do I have cat-like agility to land on my feet in this hypothetical scenario?"

"Of course not." Smoke answered, shaking his head in an exaggerated fashion. "Don't be silly."

They felt the deceleration of the shuttle as it synced its speed with their target. "Alright, I got you as close as I can." Chipper announced. "It's still a two meter gap of open space, so watch your step. Oh, and just for the record, if Lieutenant Michal doesn't come back, _none _of you are coming back. Got it?"

Marshall grinned sardonically behind his helmet. "Yes, ma'am. We'll be sure to bring your daughter home before curfew."

"You better."

The captain stood up, slapped the console to pop open the door, gauged the distance, then hopped across the distance into the partially open docking door. He was a bit surprised when his mag boots didn't draw him down to the deck, instead forcing him to grasp the door frame and pull himself down. "Right... the EMP." He mumbled, before calling out to his crew. "Mag boots don't work! Be careful!"

With that in mind, Smoke traversed the distance next, stopping himself on the bay door frame like Marshall did, then locking one foot against the door to brace himself, called for the next one over, helping Tolstoy catch himself as he crossed the distance.

"Watch this." Dani said, her eyes blinking through the tinted visor of her helmet, taking two steps back, then launching herself across the gap, arms out wide like a bird. "Wheeeee!" The quarian squealed as she rocketed past the door, caught at her waist by Smoke, who held her in that position. "What?" She asked tauntingly after several seconds.

"You crazy." Smoke observed as he set the navigator down onto the ship's surface, ignoring further zero-g displays from the lunatic quarian.

From the shuttle, Ensign O'Carter said, "Lieutenant? Ma'am? You're next."

Jessie jolted, approaching the hatch, and judging the distance. Two meters never looked quite as daunting as when open space was between you and your destination.

"Just don't overdo it, ma'am." O'Carter offered. "You don't need much to overcome your mag boots, and once you get going out here, you're gonna keep going. Just take it nice and slow."

Jessie took one steadying breath, and did just that, gently pushing off the edge of the hatch. So slowly, in fact, that her mag boots had started to pull her back, and causing her to drift forward at a distressingly slow, lethargic pace. It took fifteen seconds before she was even halfway across, unable to get any assistance from the other side because the rest of the team was doubled over in laughter.

"Well, _this _is embarrassing." Jessie groused, needing another ten seconds before the geth's ship was in reach to pull herself the rest of the way across.

Marshall stopped laughing to set Jessie on her feet, and assist Ensign O'Carter as he made his jump. Chipper wasted very little time breaking sync with the clump of geth ships and back towards the _Iwo Jima._

Not that Marshall entirely blamed her. Much like Hercules Station, the geth ships had a very... dead, empty, and forgotten feel to them. Even if the life had been synthetic in nature, to see it lifeless was a profoundly disturbing, especially when signs of that past life were strewn about like broken toys from a child's toybox.

Jessie accidentially kicked the dismembered arm away from one geth platform, pleased that she didn't scream when she realized what she did.

Smoke looked down at the sight, and noted, "That arm was detached before we got here. Probably ripped apart by the impact with the other ships." He pointed a couple hundred meters ahead, where a supporting column was sticking through the hull like a broken rib. "The curvature of that beam is flipped from the others. I'm betting that's actually a piece from the ship next to us. These ships collided with _a lot _of force."

"They were _trying _to impact their ships." Marshall concluded, pushing himself over a twisted mess of metal, geth parts, and floating debris. "I'm thinking the makeshift Faraday Cage theory is having some serious merit now."

"Would they have had the sort of time to do that intentionally?" Smoke wondered.

Dani offered her estimation, "Assuming that the travel speed of The Pulse was constant... the geth could communicate the nature of The Pulse quickly enough, and it would have taken at least a few minutes for The Pulse to reach one end of the system to the other. That _would _have been enough time for the geth to act in this manner." The quarian navigator dropped her head, and added, "However, considering that it has been one hundred years... I think its safe to say their attempts weren't very effective."

"Well, we can at least hope they were able to learn something and preserve it." Marshall said, putting a comforting hand on Dani's shoulder. "Which actually brings up my next question... you wouldn't have any idea how best to get to the center of this jumble, would you?"

She started accessing her omni-tool, "Since I doubt the geth had drastically varied ship designs, the schematic data my people have should give us as least a good starting point. Erh... this way!" Dani pointed to starboard for effect, skipping forward and doing a double flip before stopping herself with a hand on the far wall, and sliding across to the passageway in question.

"Show off." Smoke grumbled at Dani's acrobatics.

Dani laughed. "The Iktomi lost artificial gravity for five days at one point. It was fun! We adopted a measure after that; two days of every monthly cycle would be zero-g days. It broke a lot of the tedium."

Their course through the ghost ship had to be re-assessed two more times, as damage across the halls made the way impassable, and forced them to find other routes. "At least we don't have to mow our way through a small army of hostiles."

"Remember on Solar Sync when Sedin shut off the gravity?" Marshall asked.

"Yeah, it's like they forgot that zero-g would affect their people as well." Smoke chortled. "That didn't work out well for _anybody_. Hell, hurt them more than it hurt us."

"Sedin only recently has been able to mass produce matter cannons." Marshall explained when the rest of the team started looking at them. "At the time of the Oceanic War, they were entirely dependent on kinetic weapons. The recoil on their guns was amplified without gravity giving the troops firm footing, making accurate shots nigh impossible."

"Some of them suspended in mid-air started drifting backwards with each shot... it was _hilarious_. Like that one guy who got stuck spinning in circles after his gun jammed in full auto mode. That was fun trying to stop."

Meanwhile, Dani interrupted their trip down memory lane. "Okay... from what I'm scanning, there _is indeed_ another ship smushed in the middle of this pileup. The total mass isn't adding up otherwise."

"What about the electromagnetic field?" Marshall asked.

"It has been dwindling." Dani confirmed. "Part of that is simple electric nature, the interior shell of a metal structure will often carry little or no charge compared to its exterior. It's why EMP shells work in the first place. As a matter of fact, I suspect our mag boots will start working in a matter of a few meters."

Her assessment was confirmed by the time they turned into the next hall, the outer ring of the starboard side of the cruiser, as the team was indeed pulled towards whatever metal was nearest their feet. There was a short pause as everyone reoriented themselves with what had designed as the "floor" of the craft, although Dani had to be somewhat insistently cajoled from her position on the ceiling.

"So, theoretically, the center of this mass _would _have survived The Pulse?" Marshall asked further once progress resumed.

"It would seem that way... assuming that it was actually the electromagnetic trait of the EMP that was what killed synthetics." Dani said. "There may have been a lot more to it."

Dani found the access to the center of the structure she was looking for. A hull breach in both ships, the hull of the cruiser broken on the far wall and blasting through to the small craft in the center. "Aha! That should do nicely."

She crouched in anticipation of springing forward. "Watch this!" She declared, jumping and spinning as she corkscrewed through the breach, abruptly disappearing three meters through with a yelp of surprise, followed by a thud as she hit the deck.

"Dani?" Marshall yelled in concern, repeating himself three seconds later. "Lieutenant?"

Finally, the quarian's voice answered. "Three things. One, I have found gravity's embrace. Two, gravity loves me. Three, love hurts."

Marshall took a much more careful approach, peering over the edge of the breach. It opened into the ceiling of the smaller craft, and where Marshall could indeed feel the pull of artificial gravity dragging him towards the floor. Dani had pulled herself up to her knees, shaking her head as if to clear it as the captain gauged his own landing.

Finally he dropped down, head-first, making a hand plant with his right arm, then pushing off into a flip that allowed him to land upright, if with bent knees before straightening to his full height.

"Alright, _now _who's showing off?" Smoke quipped, going through the breach feet first, and rolling to his feet once he hit the deck. After which, he and Marshall caught and braced the other three members of the team as they dropped down.

And by that time, Dani had vanished down the hall. "Goddamn it, Lieutenant!" Marshall bellowed. "Get back here!" He then mumbled, "I swear, it's like she is _practicing _to get herself killed down the road."

"Sorry, sir." The quarian replied as the team made their turn into the hall where Dani was waiting. "But I picked up something on my omni-tool, and thought there wouldn't be any harm to check it out."

"And what did you pick up?" Marshall asked, wishing that he could rub his forehead to stall the headache that was forming.

"I'm not sure." Dani admitted. "I thought it was close by, but now it seems like it is down at the end of this connector, along the next ring down." She pointed to where the connecting passageway ended, which was illuminated by a faint running light at the junction between the wall and the ceiling.

"This ship still has gravity and some power." Marshall noted, confirming that it had indeed been spared the damage from the EMP.

Dani nodded, "Yes. And..." she cut herself off, and then said, "Well... I'd rather not speculate until I know more. Can we proceed?"

Marshall nodded in confirmation, gesturing to Smoke to take the lead alongside him. They advanced, hands settling on their weapons, more out of habit than anything else. There was something _very _peculiar about this, and their military experience had generally linked "peculiar" with "bad."

Dani managed to wedge herself between them five strides before the connector ended, then took off in a full sprint, her eyes glued on her omni-tool. "Lieutenant!" Marshall yelled, taking off after her, "What are you...?"

His question was answered the moment he made the turn. Five meters from the junction, Dani had pulled to a stop, looking face to face with a geth infiltrator platform. Unlike the geth remains they had found on the cruiser, this one looked still intact and was standing upright, and was one of many such units lined up against the wall, stoic and unmoving.

"This was what my omni-tool picked up." Dani said, turning to face the captain. "Stand-by processes from these geth platforms." Her voice had taken a surprisingly glum tone from what Marshall would have expected. "These platforms... are still alive, sir."


	19. Chapter 19

_Author's Note: This chapter here in my head could play out as a distinct Paragon/Renegade branch point in a game made of this story. Not... that I'm actively thinking of such things._

**Chapter 19**

Marshall asked the obvious question, if for no other reason than it needed to be asked. "If... these platforms are still alive... why are they on stand-by? Wouldn't you think they would have activated themselves by now?"

Dani shook her head. "I don't know, sir. Won't know until we find the central mainframe that was controlling this ship." She consulted her omni-tool, then pointed fore, towards the head of the ship. "This way."

This time, the quarian led the procession, even though Marshall's right hand did not drift terribly far from his sidearm. There was something about Dani's tone that was unsettling him. "Lieutenant, your people had made peace with the geth, I am told. Is that correct?"

The navigator nodded. "Yes. In fact, the geth had been helping us acclimate to Rannoch faster than we ever could on our own. Uploading processes to our suits to mimic illness and vaccines, helping build housing and set up farmland... at least, until The Pulse hit. It would have taken us a good fifty or sixty years longer to reach the point we are at without their assistance."

"Then why do you sound like you're about ready to cry?"

Dani dropped her head shamefully. "It's... complicated, sir."

Marshall put his left hand on her shoulder, momentarily stopping her forward progress. "Then help this simple human understand."

Dani began moving again, reluctantly disclosing the story on her mind. "My people have had the ability to rebuild the geth since The Pulse hit. The knowledge on how to rebuild them, with the full sentience they gained during the Reaper War, has been within our limits for some time."

Marshall followed to the logical conclusion, "Yet, the quarians didn't."

Dani confirmed. "No, we didn't. There was... division among the population and our leadership if it was prudent, wise, or even possible. Some still had lingering hate from the Morning War. They felt vindicated that the geth fell lifeless, and fought strongly against bringing them back, claiming that it was only a matter of time before another Morning War was in the making."

Dani slumped her shoulders. "Others felt that to rebuild the geth would be desecrating their memory, making a mockery of their sacrifices and their existance, akin to our ancestors' attempts to create a digital archive of the memories of the deceased. It was unnatural, and should not be supported."

Again Marshall cut in. "And then there were those who wanted to rebuild the geth."

"Yes, but the reasons for that were as myriad as those who were against it." Dani explained, making an almost absentminded turn to the processing core of the ship. "The entire debate came to a head about eleven years ago when Representative Daros'Xen began building geth platforms on one of his family's factories."

Dani shivered. "A freelance mercenary team literally imploded the entire factory within days of the discovery. Accusations began flying through the senatorial body... that the team was funded by the Rannoch government... that Daros'Xen was trying to build an army of synthetic slaves... it nearly spurred a damned _civil war_. Can you imagine how horrible that would have been? A civil war!"

The rest of the team shared uncomfortable looks, Smoke, Tolstoy, and O'Carter visibly cringing. Now would probably not be the best time to disclose that their country had engaged in _three _such internal conflicts.

Oblivious to her allies' discomfort, Dani concluded. "As a result, an edict was declared that my people would never again pursue the development of geth platforms, technology, or even any other forms of sentient life. It was deemed to be the only way to keep the peace."

At the end of Dani's exposition, they emerged into the main processing core. "At one time, this mainframe could host millions, if not billions, of geth programs." She said, pointing to the central column, cylindrical in shape, crossed over by wires and panels surrounding several terminals. "Now, it works much like the VI for a standard craft. I can only think that it was somehow damaged, and that was what kept the geth in stand-by."

The perimeter of the core was ringed by more geth platforms, including several of the massive Primes that towered nearly twice the size of all others. That got Marshall's attention much more adequately than anything Dani did as she approached one of the terminals.

He had seen intel on the geth, of course, thanks to Old Alliance reports. To see one of the prime units in the flesh, so to speak, really hammered home that these were massive platforms that could do some serious damage, even with tech that was a century old.

"Curious." Dani said, jerking his attention back to the quarian. "There is no damage to the processing core, from what I can see. They were _waiting _for an outside agency to reactivate them."

"They couldn't have been expecting to wait a hundred years." Marshall noted.

Dani agreed. "As it is, the core is losing power. If... we hadn't come along when we did... there would have been no waking them. They would have stayed in stand-by until their own power cores finally died."

Marshall sensed Dani's nervous hesitation. "Lieutenant?"

"I... live geth... I... can't..." She whimpered. "The thing that nearly brought quarian against quarian for the first time since the Morning War... how can I bring them back into this galaxy?"

"That's not the geth's fault, Dani."

The navigator openly sobbed, drawing a comforting hand from Jessie. "I know, sir. It's the problem of my people. But... isn't this more merciful? To let them... die in their sleep, so to speak? Rather than reintroduce them to a galaxy that might just attack them on sight?"

Marshall gave the question several seconds to sink in. "Listen to yourself, Lieutenant. These are living things, no matter what they're made of. They deserve that chance to live. Let them, and let come what may."

Another long, pregnant pause followed, before Dani finally acquiesced, and began tapping in the confirmation to bring the geth platforms out of stand-by. "Yes. Yes, you're right. My people can get over themselves. We created these beings, we should respect what we brought into this galaxy, both good and ill."

For almost a minute, Marshall wasn't sure if they weren't too late after all, as there was no signs that Dani's command had done much of anything. That thought quickly changed when one of the Prime platforms literally sprung to life so abruptly that Smoke had drawn his rifle and taken a bead, and even Marshall, who had been looking right at it, had drawn his sidearm halfway from its holster.

The platform rather ungracefully stumbled to one knee, possibly the years of disuse locking its joints, as other nearby units also came to life. Instinctively, the team began to form a defensive circle, as the full number of geth inside the processor core regained their bearings, their lit heads finally settling on those that had brought them back to alertness.

The first Prime platform that had awakened stepped forward uncertainly, "May I speak with your leader?" It asked with a deep, mechanical bass.

Marshall stepped forward in response. "Captain Marshall Brasser of the Iwo Jima. I am in command of this team."

"Prime Platforum 391." It said in identification. "Your uniform is not consistent with Alliance colors."

"We're... not Alliance. We are from the Nimea Military Forces."

The colors on the Prime's head shifted momentarily. "We have no record of such an organization."

"You wouldn't. The nation as it stands currently isn't even a hundred years old."

Again, the Prime was locked in thought, "Syncing time and date. One hundred years, forty-six days, twelve hours, thirty-two minutes, and seven seconds have passed since we entered standby. We had been expecting a more prompt response."

"A lot has happened, Prime." Marshall said. "Much of which we're not sure of ourselves."

"We are looking forward to getting up to speed." Prime 391 answered. "Three thousand, eight hundred, and nineteen platforms have reported in. All from the interior destroyer. All platforms on the exterior cruisers are inactive."

"You were hoping they would have survived?" Marshall queried.

"Estimates placed a thirty three point three percent chance of survival for platforms within the interior. Repeating, of course." Prime 391 explained. "Exterior platforms were considered a nil chance. But, yes, it was a hope I held."

"You wouldn't happen to have a better idea as to what it was that pushed you into what appears to be a very drastic survival measure, do you?"

Marshall was almost certain he saw the Prime platform nod. "Yes, Brasser-Captain." It answered. "We received warning as to the nature of the Crucible's discharge, and took measures that had the best chance of survival for the platforms stationed here."

"The Crucible?" Marshall said. "_That _was what did this?"

"Yes."

Smoke stepped in, and asked, "The what now?"

"The Crucible." Marshall repeated. "Our ancestors only received barest details about it before Shepard shorted out our relay. It was believed to be a weapon that could stop the Reapers advance."

"The Crucible fired an intense electromagnetic pulse at a frequency only used by one technology, that of the Reapers. Anything that was using Reaper technology was affected to various degrees. Us, by that I mean the geth, utilized Reaper technology to attain our individual sentience. The EMP was fatal to all geth platforms that came in contact with it."

"Which was why the geth on Rannoch fell..." Dani mumbled.

"Yes..." Prime 391 paused. "I am sorry, creator. May I please have your name?"

"Oh!" Dani yelped. "I am Lieutenant Dani'Arah vas Iwo Jima."

"Thank you, Creator Dani'Arah."

Dani waved off the title. "Please, do not call me that. I am not your creator, and I do not appreciate such a distinction. It makes me feel like I am somehow superior, and that could not be any more false."

Prime 391 seemed momentarily hurt. "Understood, Miss Dani'Arah." It said, in what sounded like a solemn chastised voice.

"Anyway... so this impact of your ships was intentional, then?" Marshall cut in.

"Yes. The impact of the ships, and ionization of the hull, was deemed the best chance for the geth to survive the Crucible's discharge. The units in the Sol system were too close to the initial discharge, and the platforms on Rannoch did not have the opportunity to prepare similar defenses."

"That would explain the static and lesser magnetized field we picked up." Marshall replied. "So, no other geth survived then?"

"None that we can detect." Prime 391 answered. "It is logical to assume that the platforms on this craft are the only surviving geth in the galaxy."

Smoke found the courage to speak, "How did you find yourselves here, and not on Earth yourselves?"

"The ships in this platoon had a core processor fault, acquired by a fault in scrubbed data from the relay jump to this system. It caused another critical fault in the engines. Our orders were to begin repairs and join the fight once they were completed. Before the repairs could be finalized, the Crucible fired, and this unit took the initiative to initiate the results you see now."

"Well, I guess that brings up the next question... what do you do now?"

Prime 391 legitimately sounded uncertain, the flaps on the top of its head flaring. "That... is unclear. We are detecting the Mass Relay in this system is damaged, which would explain the long response."

"It's not just the Hydra Relay." Marshall noted. "_All _of the relays we've encountered are damaged."

"That would follow." Prime 391 acknowledged. "I assume that means your ship has alternative means of effective transportation?"

And this is where things could go south _very _quickly, Marshall thought. "We do... but I am not at liberty to share that technology."

"That is expected." Prime 391 said, dodging that potential bullet, in both a figurative and potentially literal sense. "Nor would we be in position to adequately use that technology at this point in time even if it was offered to us." It paused for further internal analysis. "It would be prudent to first repair at least one of our vessels to be safe for travel, then we will determine how to proceed from there."

"I can give you our communication protocols." Marshall offered. "When you are spaceworthy again, I can then pass you along to my High Command where you can attempt to negotiate for our drive technology."

"That would be acceptable, yes." Prime 391 agreed, nodding in acceptance as it received the protocols in question. "You had said there was much about the last one hundred years you do not know, correct, Brasser-Captain?"

"Yes, Prime." Marshall said. "Much of the reason we are traveling about, to be honest... trying to figure out exactly what happened in those last days of the Reaper War, and if there's anything left out here to salvage."

"We too, have many questions, as we are uncertain of the aftermath of the Battle of Earth ourselves. If it would be acceptable, I would ask for one of our smaller platforms to accompany you and report what you find."

Marshall took a very slow breath. Here comes another potential point of contention. "I'd have to get High Command's approval for any such addition. I can't promise they'd be... cooperative... on that score. Allow me and my team to return to our ship, and I'll have our response as soon as soon as I am able."

"Understood, Brasser-Captain. We await your reply."

* * *

><p>The response from High Command was mixed, to put it simply.<p>

"Captain, I swear you are a magnet for complications." Chair Admiral Parker said tiredly, running his right hand over his face. "How do you manage to stumble on these things? It's like finding three needles in three separate haystacks on your first try each time."

Marshall had forgotten that it was the dead of night in Nimea at this point. "I am sorry for waking you, sir, but I felt this was an important matter."

"And it is." Parker agreed. "It's just that... no matter how simple of a mission High Command sends you on, you come back with seven different complications to the mission." He sighed, and said, "Don't mind me, Captain. I'm not a night person, and the rest of the board decided that they didn't need to come in person to make their opinions known. I'm rather here by myself."

"No need to apologize, sir."

"As for the geth... it is our feeling on the matter that it is better to have the geth on our side than not, even if all that remain are a mere smattering of platforms. Just a word of warning, however, is that it is doubtful that other civilizations you find will have our more... accepting... attitude towards synthetic life. It probably would not be prudent to parade any geth that you'll be hosting on the Iwo Jima. Also, make it clear to whatever platforms join you that they are under no circumstances allowed to scan or process our technology. They will have to negotiate such things with our Parliament or with Rannoch."

"I will extend those stipulations, and I suspect they will be met in agreement."

"Send a text message with how many platforms you will be hosting." Parker ordered. "Try and keep the number small. I'm sure while they can be housed anywhere, I'd rather not have to keep your crew's eyes on too many of them."

"Understood, sir."

Parker stood, revealing how hastily he dressed and attended to the board chamber, uniform shirt untucked and slacks only partially zipped. He saluted lethargically, and said, "Carry on, Captain. O-9 out."

The display vanished, and Marshall quickly reactivated the comm after sending a text message to the geth informing them of the details from High Command, receiving confirmation of those orders almost as quickly as he sent them. "Lieutenant Michal, inform our geth friends that they are permitted to send a liason aboard."

"Yes, sir." Jessie replied, followed not even seconds later by, "Uhh... sir? They say they already already waiting outside our airlock." Another short pause, and then, "There... is a solitary geth platform in open space... outside our airlock... sir. Apparently, they have personal EVA thrusters."

Marshall slapped his forehead. The geth apparently had been anticipating this response. "Alright, have Chipper prep the airlock and let it in. Have Lieutenant Dani'Arah meet me at the airlock in three minutes."

Marshall didn't wait up for Dani as he emerged from his quarters, figuring that the lieutenant would either be lock-step behind him in seconds or already on her way. The former turned out to be true as the quarian woman slid into the elevator just as the doors were starting to close.

They hit the third deck in full stride, stopping on the port side where the airlock was beeping in confirmation that it had been re-pressurized. "Open it up, Chipper." Marshall ordered up to the bridge, and counted to five before the door's latches popped then slid apart in three directions to reveal their newest addition.

Fortunately, it wasn't a Prime unit, mostly because Marshall wasn't sure where they would have fit such a monstrosity. "Infiltrator Platform 709, Brasser-Captain." It said in introduction, speaking with a surprisingly pleasant, if obviously mechanical, tenor. "I apologize if my presence startled you. Prime Platform 391 determined that it would save time to have me ready to board if your answer was affirmative."

"We appreciate the courtesy." Marshall said. "Did Prime 391 inform you of the terms of your presence?"

"Yes, Brasser-Captain." Infiltrator 709 replied. "I will refrain from any analysis of your technology until given approval. In additional note, I require no specific accommodations save an approximately one meter by one meter by two meter space in which to put myself in powered down modes when deemed necessary."

"The Life Support center is fairly out of the way." Dani suggested. "I doubt it will try to vent the oxygen from the ship in the middle of the night."

"I think that's as good of a place as any." Marshall answered. "Follow us."

"There is no need." The geth answered. "I obtained schematics of your ship from the VI once I came aboard. Seemed more efficient that way."

Marshall and Dani exchanged a wary look before Marshall explained, "Yeah, Infiltrator Platform 709, that would probably fall under the 'do not scan our technology' clause, just for future reference."

If geth could be startled, the platform in front of them was no doubt in that state. "I do apologize, Brasser-Captain. I shall refrain from any accessing any of the Iwo Jima's systems without expressed permission. I am also required to tell you that despite my classification, geth do not _intentionally _infiltrate other systems."

"That's... good to know." Marshall answered. "You're dismissed, then." Somehow Marshall had the sinking feeling, regardless of intent, that this was going to be an adventure in and of itself.


	20. Chapter 20

_CODEX: NIMEA MILITARY FORCES_

_Established in 2184 shortly after the birth of Nimea as a nation, the NMF has been a driving force for the country, both in arms and in peace, for nearly the entirety of the nation's existence._

_All citizens of Nimea are required to serve at least one two year tour of duty within the military at some point after reaching age of majority at fifteen years of age; either on active duty, a reservist, or as a cadet learning within one of the country's many military academies. Most citizens take the latter route, as the academies are routinely the best educational opportunities within the country, and are available tuition free. Exceptions to this requirement are made based on health (many defects are cause to be given leave of service), economic reasons (the sole caregiver of a family is permitted exception, for example), or family status (extended family of Members of Parliament are granted exception to prevent potential conflict of interest if said family is taken prisoner by enemy forces)._

_Ranks in the Nimea Military were normalized across all branches upon the founding of the military machine, roughly based off Alliance naval custom. Officers in the military are trained for one grade above their actual pay grade. For example, Captains (O-6) are trained for the duties of a Rear Admiral (O-7). This is to ensure as seamless of a transition as possible in case officers are lost in a time of war._

_O-1: Probationary Officers. This is the default pay grade for up to three years after graduating from an academy and before they are given a permanent conscription. During this time, the Probationary Officer can either go into the private sector or officially accept a billet within the active military. The vast majority are Probationary Ensigns, although in some cases of limited fields where Ensign assistance isn't common, Probationary Lieutenants exist, jumping the O-2 pay grade._

_O-2: Ensign. The lowest active officer rank, and are usually assisting a higher ranking officer at a ship station._

_O-3: Lieutenant. In the Nimea Military, their rank is also preceded by their field; i.e. pilots are officially titled Flight Lieutenant, or Communication Lieutenant for a comm officer. They are the officers usually in charge of a specific station on a ship (with one notable exception), although Paramilitary Lieutenants serve as the Ensign rank in specialist op teams. Within the O-3 pay grade, there are three delineations (Third, Second and First), which are not part of the official title, and only serve to establish seniority among the pay grade._

_O-4: Lieutenant Commander. The highest ranking station officer within a ship generally carries this rank, and is the lowest rank among the command personnel; although on smaller, non essential ships, the LC serves as the second in command, and the First Lieutenant serves the normal Lieutenant Commander role. In very rare cases, an important ship can have two or more LC's, one serving directly on the bridge as the third in command, the other at a non-bridge station as the fourth on down. In the paramilitary, LC's serve as the second in command of individual specialist teams._

_O-5: Commander. On most ships, they are the second in command, although can also be the commanding officer on non-essential craft. In the paramilitary, they are the commanding officer of individual specialist teams._

_O-6: Captain. The captain rank is a "hybrid" rank; in ship custom, they are the commanding officer of nearly every craft, but are also the assisting rank to Admirals in the High Command structure. Professors of Academy are captain rank by default, answering to the Admiral Headmaster. They have no consistent place in paramilitary operations, as the teams usually report directly to High Command, although some commanding officers of teams gain captain rank after many years of service._

_O-7: Rear Admiral. The one star admirals hold this pay grade, and are the lowest rank among Nimea's High Command. The Admiral Headmaster of individual academies hold this rank._

_O-8: Vice Admiral: Two and three star admirals sit on this pay grade Vice Admirals are the primary contact for most specialist teams, and the Chair Headmaster of the Nimea military academies are also within this pay grade._

_O-9: Admiral. Four and five star admirals hold this rank. A notable subset within this pay grade is the O-9 Board, who are the seven highest ranking officers within all branches of the Nimea Military Forces. Black Ops teams report directly to the O-9 Board._

_O-10: Chair Admiral. This pay grade only technically exists during a time of war. In other times, the Chair Admiral rank exists within the O-9 pay grade, and retains the highest rank among the Nimea Military Forces._

**Chapter 20**

If there was some small sense of accomplishment on discovering that another sentient species had survived the Reaper War, that mood had been dampened upon their arrival at Pinnacle Station. The converted asteroid looked very much like a normal asteroid, albeit an asteroid heavily pockmarked by weapons fire. Scans suggested that the asteroid itself had been fundamentally damaged by the attack , and that any further damage would most likely cause the asteroid to break apart. Even if something _might _have been found there, Marshall (with High Command's blessing) deemed any exploration to be far too dangerous to be worth the attempt.

The Reapers had clearly gotten to it first.

Marshall had ordered them to return to the Hydra system, and from there, try to plot their next move. Pinnacle Station had been a bit of a dead end in a navigating sense, having very little direct communication lines outside the system, and thus requiring the back track to find another point of interest.

And for all the down spirits after Pinnacle Station, they surged right back to uplifted once they actually actively started looking for where to go next; higher than at any point before, in fact.

"Sir, we're getting another active ping." Chipper said, "Mayes, are you sure this is right?"

"Yes, ma'am." The ensign replied, his eyes focused intently on his position. "There is data flying all over this buoy. None of it outgoing from the system, but the chatter is there, and a lot of it."

"Lieutenant, Ensign." Marshall said in warning, "Do let the rest of the class in on the secret."

"Eden Prime." Chipper announced. "Several comm buoys are active, and transferring tremendous amounts of data and communication. That colony is still live and kicking."

Smiles broke out from among the crew, nervous optimism bubbling as the news slowly filtered its way through the ship. Finally, evidence that other havens of humanity had survived the Reaper War. "Can we patch our comm into those buoys, Chipper?"

"Negative." Chipper replied, "They don't have any quantum entanglers active, and we don't have the range for any broadcast of ours to reach any of those buoys. We'll have a better chance the closer we get."

"Are there any mapped systems between here and there where we can sit down and make such a communication? I'd rather not cause a panic dropping straight away onto their front porch."

Dani spoke next, "Yes, sir. The Belding Cluster is our best bet; the Stanford System within that cluster is a two hour needle, and should put us well within communicator range of Eden Prime."

"Then make it so, Dani." Marshall confirmed, "Needle when ready, Chipper."

* * *

><p>Turns out, an unknown ship imposing itself onto their comm buoys from beyond the Utopia system was a recipe for a minor panic anyway. The buoy operator who caught the communication literally screamed when he discovered the location of the <em>Iwo Jima<em>... although at least it assured Marshall that the receiver was indeed human.

The next attempt at communication was more reserved, a very carefully worded greeting and request for identification, as well as to confirm that where Eden Prime's technology _said _the contact was coming from was indeed _actually _where it was coming from. After which, there was a request for patience as the highest levels of their government were informed, and a decision on how to proceed was made.

The next contact was to inform the _Iwo Jima_ that their next communication would be coming from the president of the colony herself, and to be patient as she readied herself for that next communication.

"Well, at least Eden Prime has mastered bureaucracy in the last century." Chipper grumbled upon termination of the latest transmission.

"The Senate of Rannoch spent three hours 'on hold' waiting to get communication through to your Parliament, and your people _knew _mine would be calling." Dani retorted with a snort. "Rest assured, Eden Prime still has some catching up to do in _that _department."

Thirty minutes of radio silence followed, before finally another communication reached the _Iwo Jima_. "Video and audio, sir." Jessie informed. "Eden Prime is giving us the red carpet treatment."

"Patch it through, Lieutenant."

The viewscreen flared to life, displaying a woman Marshall guessed was in her seventies', shoulder length silver hair tightly curled around her moderately wrinkled almond colored face, dressed in a modest grey suit and sitting behind a mahogany stained desk. "Good evening, Captain Marshall Brasser, and the crew of the Iwo Jima. I am President Naomi Nikita of the Unified Republic of Eden Prime."

"And good evening to you, Madam President." Marshall answered. "You have no idea how much of a relief it is to learn that other humans did in fact survive the Reaper War."

"Not nearly as much as it is for us, let me assure you." The president said.

Marshall found the implication unpleasant. "Oh. Here I was hoping that due to your proximity to Sol your people would have heard from Earth."

Naomi shook her head forlornly. "I am... sorry, captain. We have not heard a peep from the Sol System since the day the Reapers finally fell."

Something seemed... off... about what the president said, but he couldn't quite put a finger on exactly what, nor did he want to sound rude thinking about it right away. "Is there any reason you can think of why that would be outside of the worst case scenario?"

Naomi dropped her chin onto her hands. "I'm not sure what your colony saw way out in the Attican Traverse, captain... but what hit us here... if Earth was at the epicenter, I'm not sure how _anything, _organic or synthetic, could have survived."

"What do you mean?" Marshall queried, momentarily locking eyes with Dani as she turned to face him with puzzlement.

"The pulse that hit Eden Prime damaged anything electronic we had. We were fortunate that we had a lot of resources underground where they remained intact. And we were quite a distance away from Sol. The damage that would have been done to Earth... I can't imagine it would be anything less than catastrophic."

Now, Marshall started to understand that odd feeling he had earlier. Something wasn't adding up. The scenario that the president was describing didn't match anything they had discovered earlier. Whether that was a consequence of proximity to Sol, or something else, was unclear. It meant that he didn't want to tip his hand right away. "I see. Well, I guess our mission becomes a salvage one then."

"Salvage?" Naomi asked.

Marshall shrugged. "Well, once we've set up proper diplomatic channels with Eden Prime, my superiors are no doubt going to insist we travel to Sol anyway. They're going to want solid, concrete evidence regardless."

The president's body language, while extremely practiced, gave away the tell Marshall was looking for. A brief flash of panic before calm and collected could settle over top. "I understand, captain. Hopefully, we of Eden Prime will be able to make your stay pleasant enough to face what will likely be a tragic visit to our ancestral homeworld."

Marshall smiled warmly, "Is that an invitation to enter your territory then?"

"Absolutely!" Naomi replied, her enthusaism remarkably well faked. "In fact, I _insist _on it. Your whole crew! We'll wine and dine you to your heart's content!"

"Then we'll see you there, Madam President. I'm told we can be in Eden Prime orbit in one hour and ten minutes." He then paused, and said, "Oh! I should probably note that we do have a quarian crew member on board. She may likely need special accommodations."

The president's instinctive reaction was even _more _profound before the fake smile could assert itself. And despite her best efforts, Marshall caught the hint of strain in her voice. "I am sure we can make arrangements, even if she may have to bring her own food and drink. We'll see you then, captain." Naomi replied in parting. "Eden Prime out."

With the viewscreen display terminated, Marshall allowed the facade to drop. Dani turned around and said, "Captain, there's something not right. The Pulse hit through the mass relays. There would have been no lesser impact in any particular place in the galaxy."

Seven, the shortened name that the crew had given their geth crewmember, added, "Nor would The Pulse have targeted anything other than Reaper tech. I must assert that there is a nil chance Eden Prime had any technology one hundred years ago that would have been affected, much less a majority of it."

"I know, Dani, Seven." Marshall replied, not intending to sound testy even though it likely came across that way. "That entire discussion was nothing but a prolonged string of lies. Now the question is why."

The comm opened from the brig. "Captain? Sir?" Ensign Todd Walker said.

"Yes, Ensign?"

"Our... guest... in the brig wants to talk with you. He says it's urgent."

* * *

><p>Khull was in a very familiar position, sitting cross legged on top of his blankets in the center of his cell when Marshall arrived. Seeing the captain's approach, Khull said, "I overheard your little talk with the President of Eden Prime."<p>

Marshall was a shade bit surprised, considering that the brig was one deck up and damn near the full length of the ship aft from the brig. "You have some good ears, Khull."

"Actually, I heard it from my guards. They were listening in." Khull admitted. "Though it is true I have exceptionally good hearing, even for my species." He pulled his lower two lips into a crude approximation of a smile and said, "On a completely unrelated note, you might want to inform Lieutenant Michal and Lieutenant Dani'Arah to be a little more discreet when they go into the female restroom together."

Marshall shook his head in comic dismay. He had suspected as much, but was content to let it be as long as they kept quiet about it. "I'll be sure to inform them, but somehow I doubt that is the urgent discussion you wished to have."

"No, it's not." Khull said. "As I'm sure you already gathered, this president was lying pretty much from the beginning. I'd wager money that her bit about not hearing from Earth was an outright fabrication."

Marshall crossed his arms. "I did, actually, but I'm glad to hear an independent observer confirming it."

"What you might _not _have gathered, however, was the president's response to learning you have a quarian aboard. Her voice was definitely strained, she was trying very hard to hide her distaste."

"I had noticed that, too... I wasn't sure what to make of it, however."

"Hard to say. But I suspect your brothers and sisters have a fair hint of xenophobia. Whether it is specifically against quarians, or just aliens in general is something I could only speculate. Regardless, something smells foul about it all. I assume you are going to give Eden Prime a wide berth because of it?"

Marshall shook his head. "You're right, something isn't right, but I intend to try and find out what it is. You don't solve problems by running away from them, and something tells me there are more than a handful of problems on Eden Prime."

Khull nodded in approval. "That's good. I like that. Just remember that you are one ship worth of people against potentially a planet. You can't go in weapons blazing, even if you _do _have superior technology."

Marshall found himself entertaining the yagh. Khull had demonstrated to be a fairly level headed being in subsequent visits after his initial detainment. Marshall thought it might actually be a fairly good idea to get his input. "Alright, Khull. Tell me; how would _you _proceed?"

Khull again grinned. "I'm glad you asked..."


	21. Chapter 21

_Author's Note: Much to my shame, I made a bit of a continuity boo-boo in Chapter 19, missing a change I had made to a timeline detail in Dani's story. Not a HUGE deal, but I don't want readers stumbling over themselves when a bigger picture fleshes out later because the time frames given don't match._

_I apologize for the error._

**Chapter 21**

As the Yukon made its final approach to the designated landing pad, Chipper took her sweet time in the shuttle's descent as Marshall made his final orders.

"Remember, once our landing party disembarks, all essential communication will only go through my QEC using our highest security encryption." Marshall informed the bridge.

Smoke's response was both overly literal and demonstrated he understood the order.

"Copy that, captain."

Marshall would have loved to have had a personal quantum entangler comm installed to his armor and linked to his HUD during the Oceanic War. It might have...

He cleared his head of the thought, because he knew it wasn't fair either to himself or High Command. Personal QEC was literally still prototype technology, and no doubt loaded with bugs or other potential errors. And much like the first ship-scale QEC's, the personal unit installed into Marshall's armor only had enough "lines" to link with one other station, in this case, the bridge of the _Iwo Jima_. The only reason he was using it now was because it was the only thing Marshall was positive Eden Prime wouldn't be able to listen in to.

"Gotta set her down, sir." Chipper informed. "I don't want these folks getting nervous."

"Do it, Chipper." Marshall confirmed, feeling the descent shift to a significantly higher velocity.

"Constant Flight Control, this is Yukon Shuttle, bearing dignitaries. I am making my descent towards Hefner Landing Zone as per your instructions." The pilot said.

"Copy, Yukon Shuttle." The flight controller responded. "You are cleared for landing on Pad 1. We apologize for any mess... we haven't had need to use these pads in some time."

"Understood, Constant. Yukon out." Chipper ended the transmission, and grumbled, "I could literally land this thing anywhere. Why are they requiring I set down at the furthest landing pad from our location in orbit?"

"Could be any number of reasons, although I suspect it's because there's something on the south side of the capitol that they _don't_ want us to see." Marshall answered.

"It has something to do with that dome." Dani grumbled, her suspicion evident. "I'm telling you, that's quarian design there. That's why the madam president freaked when she learned I was on board. I'd bet money on it."

Dani was referring to a domed structure that the _Iwo Jima's _surface scans detected and identified as alien in both its structure and design. It bore considerable resemblance to the spherical astroponics centers found on quarian liveships, and Dani was certain that was in fact what it was, and that the debris field is the rest of the ship that dome came from.

"And if we get confirmation of that, there's going to be a lot of questions we're going to need answered." Marshall said. "But we _need _to be discreet here."

Dani glowered at the reminder. "Yes, and bringing with us a near three meter tall monster with three lips filled with teeth and eight eyes is the very _definition _of human discretion, is it?"

"We needed a 'control' alien, and bringing the geth wouldn't have worked because Eden Prime would have a very logical reason to be afraid of them." Marshall answered.

Khull straightened the collar of his jumpsuit again, having already complained that it was a shade too tight for his tastes. Marshall was more impressed that they were able to stitch together something that fit the yahg _at all_. "If they don't have the same reaction to my presence as they did to your mention, then it's safe to say that there is a specific quarian bias... confirming your theory that Eden Prime and the quarian fleet had some manner of dispute." Khull then added. "Isn't that something you'd like proven, Lieutenant?"

Dani's eyes narrowed, and she said warily. "I suppose."

A rapid deceleration announced that the Yukon had reached it's destination long before Chipper killed the engines and said, "We're here."

The diplomatic procession had already assembled, several armored cars with dark black windows in a line, bearing flags on the front ends that Marshall assumed were Eden Prime's colors. A small regiment of soldiers in formal uniform were lined up in front of said vehicles, as well as four flanking a man in a very dapper black pinstriped suit, two to each side.

"Captain Brasser?" He asked, approaching Marshall, offering his hand for a shake as Chipper took her leave back to the _Iwo Jima_. "I am Attendant Henry Pollard, attache to the Office of the President." He made a quick appraisal of Marshall and Dani's very armored state, and added, "Although, I suddenly feel rather... under dressed for the occasion."

"My superior's orders." Marshall said apologetically. "Our last couple of surface encounters didn't exactly end well, and my High Command has decided we aren't going to be fooled again. On top of that, when you're hosting two liaison officers, my superiors want to be as careful as they can."

That subtle introduction of the Khull and Dani had the desired effect of getting the diplomat to acknowledge their existance. "This is Lieutenant Dani'Arah vas Iwo Jima vas Rannoch."

"A pleasure." Pollard said, taking Dani's offered hand with a formal bow.

"And I yours." Dani replied with surprisingly faked candor. Even Marshall, knowing what to look for, was hard pressed to find the subtle clues as to her distaste.

It was the same for their escort, but it sure as hell was there. There was no surprise at seeing her unusual features, and a definite hesitation in his welcome and words. This man knew what quarians looked like, and had personal experience with them.

"This is the Iwo Jima's chief of security, Operative Khull." The captain said in introduction of his other escort. Granted, it was a lie on several levels; the _Iwo Jima_ didn't have a security station, much less Khull being the chief of it, nor was there an "Operative" rank anywhere within the Nimea Military Forces, and he doubted on Parnack as well.

But hey, considering the lies being thrown about on this mission, what was one or three more?

Pollard's reaction was similarly distasteful and wary, although part of that was to be expected, as Khull didn't exactly cut what would be considering an unintimidating figure. However, it also demonstrated the marked difference in his tone and genuine curiosity with a species that Marshall _knew_ he hadn't seen before.

"I'm sorry... I don't think we have any records of your kind."

"Yahg." Khull responded in as disarming a voice as he could manage. Which likely helped little. "We are... new... to the galactic stage."

Pollard refrained from offering a hand in greeting, with the perhaps justifiable fear that he might not get it back. He then addressed Marshall again with a somewhat sarcastic, "Any other alien species aboard your vessel that we should know about?"

"Just these two." Marshall answered. "Kinda why I brought them, honestly. See how the planet suits their tastes. They haven't had much chance to see humans outside of my crew."

"Understandable. At any rate... I hope you aren't expecting an immediate audience with the Madam President... she is currently addressing the governing body. I am to entertain you in the meantime. Please, follow me."

Marshall got his first message flashed to his HUD.

"Not even asking us relinquish our weapons? Could they be any more transparent?"

He was a bit surprised to discover that Dani had patched into his suit using the QEC. That should not have been possible. Nonetheless, he muted outgoing voice to compose his reply.

"Do I even want to know how you're doing this?"

"Do you think Reticuli Prime is the only planet to have developed small scale entanglers? I'm patched into the bridge just like you, bouncing the transmission to you via the Iwo Jima."

"Clever."

"I thought so. But poor Khull might feel left out. So I'll try and keep the chatter to a minimum."

Khull, in fact, was quite engrossed with something else, watching the diplomat they were following intently. Marshall nudged him, and whispered, "Something I should know?"

The yahg's barely perceptible shake of his head was Marshall's only answer.

Finally, Smoke's voice cut in, "Looks like Eden Prime has a bit of a fleet after all. They've got seven destroyer class vessels on the other side of the planet starting to drift our way, and a bunch more sitting outside the system proper."

"Well, I think we can now confirm their endgame." Marshall said. "Makes sense, they'd probably be coveting our technology. Anything you can't handle?"

"Scans show they're suprisingly sophisticated, but nothing particularly special. We might actually have to use the stealth drive for this, though."

"Keep me up to speed. Don't let any of them get within thirty kilos. Open fire if necessary."

"Copy that, Ghost."

Meanwhile, Pollard had led them to the rear of the procession. "Now I understand why you asked for the largest transport we had. I can't imagine our yahg friend here would have fit in any other vehicle."

"No, I would not. I appreciate the courtesy." Khull said, bowing slightly to express appreciation, climbing into the open rear of the vehicle afterwards.

Once everyone had settled in, and the motorcade began, Pollard began to engage in small talk. "So... have you encountered anyone outside of the quarians and the yahg?"

"Well, we ran into a pack of vorcha that weren't too friendly, and some old mechs on an abandoned Cerberus station... but outside of that, no."

Pollard shivered at the invocation of the organization. "Ugh. This colony had its share of trouble with Cerberus during the Reaper War. Why am I not surprised they're still giving the galaxy trouble, even when they're no longer around?"

Again, Marshall caught Khull's expression shift, only to be waved off by another barely there shake of the yahg's head. Whatever Khull was looking for, he didn't want to discuss it with Pollard present.

"What about you? Any alien encounters since the Reaper War?" Dani asked sweetly.

"Not really..." Pollard replied.

"Curious... because I noticed a dome like structure that was remarkably quarian in its design."

Pollard started, but recovered quickly. "Oh... that. Yes, there was a short period shortly before the Reaper War where a quarian liveship passed overhead. Their ship had been heavily damaged, and they appropriated that part of their liveship as a temporary housing unit until other members of their fleet arrived to rescue them. We've only recently had the resources to start terraforming it back to levo chirality... hence why we haven't torn it down yet."

"I see." Dani said morosely.

"The Lieutenant here is trying to find evidence of the fate of the fleet that went to Earth." Marshall offered. "When she saw that dome, she had hope you'd have the evidence she was looking for."

"I am sorry." Pollard said sympathetically. "But I'm afraid you'll find no answers here."

Finally, Khull spoke up, his tone accusing and all eight eyes narrowing in suspicion. "He's lying."

Pollard was aghast. "What... why... that is an awfully bold accusation, sir..."

"Yahg can see into the infared, captain." Khull explained, "Another evolutionary trait we cultivated. Quite handy for finding prey in hiding... or the shifts in body temperature that come with an accelerated heart rate."

"An accelerated heart rate that generally happens when a person lies." Marshall concluded.

Pollard panicked, and started to lunge towards the front of the transport to alert his guards, when he was discouraged from doing so with a carefully placed pistol to his right temple, courtesy of Dani. "We aren't stupid, you know." She mocked. "We rather figured you and your people were up to no good. Now, if you cooperate, I'm reasonably certain Khull here won't eat you."

"I make no promises." The yahg answered. "I haven't had a good meal since I left Parnack."

Pollard again looked towards the front of the transport, now realizing why the three visitors had taken positions as far to the rear of the transport as possible, and had been speaking with surprisingly low voices. "I... I can't tell you."

"Not a very good answer." Marshall taunted. "Khull, why don't you take a bite, see if he suits your tastes."

"No!" Pollard hissed, any pretenses cast aside and outright panic covering his features, "I really _don't _know what's going on in the Facility." He said. "Only a small handful of military and political leaders do. All I know is that a few years after the pulse hit, a quarian liveship _did _stumble onto this planet, heavily damaged. We agreed to allow them to settle until they could make repairs and continue on their way."

"I honestly don't know what changed or when. What I do know is that our leaders didn't let the quarians leave. I don't know why."

Khull leaned back, and nodded, "For once, he's telling the truth."

"Stand down, Dani." Marshall ordered. "Are there still quarians within the Facility?"

Pollard nodded. "Yes, at least as recently as two weeks ago. There's been some... movement... in the Facility. A lot of biochemical and biomass containers have been leaving the Facility lately. I have no idea what they are for."

Marshall shifted his eyes towards Dani, then Khull. "I think it's time we ditched these losers." He said. "What do you two think?"

* * *

><p>"Transport 7-A... do you copy?"<p>

Marshall ignored the question as he took a sharp right turn in the transport the three of them had just commandeered. The soldier leading the motorcade had been trying to make contact for the last two minutes, most likely because thanks to Dani scrambling the GPS on the transport, said motorcade had no idea where they were.

Speaking of the quarian, she was making sure the knots at their wrists and ankles were tight, and their gags firmly in place. "It was good to meet you, bosh'tet, but I do believe we won't be requiring your services any longer." She said to Pollard, mockingly slapping his left cheek.

Khull leaned through the flap separating the back of the transport from the cabin, and said, "You _do _understand that our goals are fairly transparent? They are going to _know _our likely destination, and are going to be ready for us."

"Mmm hmm." Marshall acknowledged.

"You _are _aware that it would be three of us against what will likely be heavy resistance?" Khull continued. Yagh were hardly timid creatures, but even he was a little perturbed by the total lack of concern Marshall seemed to be giving to the situation.

To be fair, even Marshall knew he shouldn't be _enjoying _this. He had spent the better part of the last six years getting _away _from this sort of thing. But there was still that part of him, the one that got a little excited about throwing himself up against stacked odds, if for any reason than to prove he can. This was, perhaps tragically, his element... and despite the years and the mental training to accept a professor's life, he liked it.

"You can take the marine out of the fight, but you can't take the fight out of the marine." Kelsey's mother had liked to say. It apparently applied to navy paramilitary specialists as well.

"Transport 7-A... do... you... copy?"

Marshall finally turned off the radio, having lost his humor for the increasingly panicked solider on the other end. Now it was just getting annoying. Finally, he called back, "Dani! Our escorts all nice and packed up?"

"Yes sir!" The quarian shouted back.

Underneath his helmet, Marshall sported the grin of a man having far too much fun than he rightfully should. "Well, Khull... the two of you are about to get a crash course in Nimean Black Ops."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

"I repeat, it is strongly suspected that the Reticuli Prime agents are heading towards the facility. Make sure the main gate is locked down and that all personnel have reported in and are accounted for. The agents have commandeered a Nubis Light Armored Transport and can be considered armed and highly dangerous. I repeat..."

"God damn it, shut up!" Private First Class Jani Jenkins snarled as she finally deactivated her receiver.

The Staff Commander had been blasting that same warning over and over through all available channels for the last two minutes. As it was, they had to stand outside in temperatures a little over 34 Celsius in heavy armor, guarding some tiny emergency exit on the west side of the facility, because of some overly panicked reports that three extra-solar visitors had broken their diplomatic leash two hours ago.

"If we have potential hostiles running lose, PFC, I'd say that's a pretty big deal to worry about." Her partner at the post, Private Harold Westminister said. "I can't blame the Commander for being freaked out."

"It's _three _of them." Jani droned impatiently. "How much trouble could they _really _cause? I mean, two of them could be picked out on sight alone!"

"They have the technology to cross the galactic space without using the mass relays." Harold reminded. "Who knows what other tech they have?"

Jani knew, logically, that Harold was right. It was for the same reason that the entire city went on alert when a dangerous criminal was at large. But rationality didn't keep her cool in this heat with Utopia pounding down on her.

Harold then pointed towards the north, and the main road that led to the facility. "Is that... the transport they stole?"

Jani followed the line her partner made with his hand. It indeed looked like a light transport like the one described in the report, and its high rate of speed would not have been the path of a legitimate arrival, especially as it showed no signs of slowing down. "Are... they going to try and ram the main gate? That's insane!"

There were actually _two _main gates to the facility, an outer fenced area that was for all intents and purposes electrified wire mesh. _That _one wouldn't even slow the transport down. But the gate that directly led to the interior of the facility was a half meter of reinforced amorphous metal alloy. It was capable of resisting direct missile strikes... there would be no way any vehicle was going to ram its way through.

It looked like the intruders were going to give it an honest to goodness effort though. The transport blasted through the first gate, and crossed the half mile between that and the second armored gate in seconds, disappearing around the curvature of the domed building.

And the collision _had _to have been spectacular... the slam as metal ground together nearly deafened Jani even from her position. She instantly dashed off to see the aftermath, Harold's protest barely reaching her ears, "PFC! We can't leave our posts!"

"To hell with that!" She shouted back. "The main gate is either gonna have the situation locked down or they're gonna need our help! Come on!"

Reluctantly, Harold followed, momentarily sprinting to catch up before he settled into Jani's pace. As they rounded the perimeter, the aftermath of the event started to unfold; the transport had predictably not done much damage, more bouncing off the armored gate than anything else. Even with mass effect fields negating much of the force, Jani couldn't imagine any of the three visitors coming out of that mess looking good.

So expecting to hear that the threat was neutralized, Jani was startled when the Gunnery Sergeant in charge of the security instead turned towards her in rage. "Private! What the hell are you doing? Why did you leave your fucking post?'

"Wha...?" Jani gaped, "But... you got them... right?"

"That's right. We got 'em." The Sergeant mocked. "Turns out you found _all three of 'em_! We're gonna hold a parade in your honor! I'm in charge of the goddamn decorations and PSC Westminister here is in charge of the fucking confetti!"

His arm whipped back behind him, pointing to a trio of men, apparently nursing sore wrists. "_That _is who we fucking got! Three of _our guys_, tied up like hogs and thrown into the front seat! Now I ask you again, PFC, why did you leave your post?"

"Uhhhhhhh..."

The sergeant was about a half second from knocking her straight on her ass before more important matters had to be dealt with. Activating his comm, he announced, "We have an additional potential security breach. West Service Gate 3! I repeat, we have an additional potential breach at West Service Gate 3! All available units contain!"

Jani then noticed they weren't the only guards that had rushed to the scene, judging from the units from the other side of the facility scurrying in the distance.

Once the message was delivered, he pointed at both privates and seethed, "You better pray to God that you two aren't the stupid fucks these hostiles took advantage of. Get back to your post. _Now_!"

Harold and Jani spun about, and bolted with the speed only fear can fuel, barely recognizing another pair of guards that they almost ran down in their haste, along with their sergeant's yell of "_For fuck's sake!_"

Harold was by far the faster sprinter of the pair, and so it did not take long for him to get a sizable lead. "Harry! Hold up! Wait for me!" Jani protested. Not that he complied... he was even more terrified of their Sergeant than she was. He might as well have been chased by the hounds of Hell itself.

He was a good fifteen strides ahead by the time he reached their post... turning as Jani saw the burst that effectively vaporized his head.

"Man down!" Jani screeched in terror into her comm, finding yet another surge of adrenaline to fuel both her legs and her lungs. "West Service Gate 3! Man down!"

She drew her rifle from its mount on her back, irrationally prepared to defend her most assuredly dead partner, drawing a bead on what she thought was movement at the other side. That movement turned out to be the roll of a fragmentation grenade, the force of the blast picking her up off the ground and depositing her at such distance that she could see the chaos still mulling at the main gate.

Her next observation was that she was having difficulty breathing, the source of which was quickly determined to be the shrapnel that had ripped through her armor, and buried itself in her chest. She could feel blood leaving her through the wounds, each normally life-giving heartbeat bringing her closer to death.

Well, at least she wouldn't have to be the one to hand the flag over to Harry's mum...

Her awareness started to fade as shock set in, to the point where she was barely aware of a hand gently lifting her head, and the Sergeant's voice telling her to 'stay with him', then angrily demanding medigel and a corpsman...

* * *

><p>The grenade did its intended effect, mangling the doorway to prevent pursuers. They wouldn't be able to quickly follow through that entrance, and Dani was theoretically mucking up their central computer to make other avenues much more difficult as well.<p>

"Well, I'm not able to lock them _completely _out of the system, but they aren't going to exactly have a fun time getting to us." Dani assessed. "I have an algorithm locking doors and changing pass codes at random... they'll be able to override each door individually, but it will take them time."

"Good. The last thing we want is to get flanked and pinned down." Marshall said. "Did you get the layout of this facility?"

"Yes sir, sent to your omni-tool."

Marshall confirmed that he did indeed have the layout in question, using the index finger of his left hand to trace the route he wanted to take. "This should give us a nice tour of the facility to gather evidence, and provide us with a good extraction point."

With that, Marshall was on the move, sidearm at the ready as he patched himself into the _Iwo Jima_. "Smoke, what's your status up there?"

The commander's answer followed quickly. "Shockingly, they didn't take kindly to us ripping apart three of their 'welcoming committee.' They've abandoning the boarding idea, fortunately, but now all their friends who were sitting on the edge of the system are in orbit. Twenty five ships in total. We may have the tech edge, but I still don't like those odds. We've got stealth mode engaged, hiding out on the far side of Utopia currently."

"We're going to have to do a Hit-And-Run." Marshall said distastefully. "Make sure Chipper and Mayes are ready for it."

There was a reason he didn't like the idea. It was a procedure reserved normally for quick extraction of Black Ops teams from a hot zone, requiring a great deal of precision from both the shuttle pilot and the ship pilot in orbit above. Marshall was reasonably confident Chipper could handle it, but Mayes was rather fresh out the academy... he had exceptionally high quals, but hadn't been tested in live scenarios.

"Understood. Smoke out."

He ended his conversation with the bridge in time for Dani to openly wonder, "While I think it's pretty obvious they were after our tech, I'm not sure why they thought this scheme would work."

"Might have been how they got our quarian friends here. Pretend to be welcoming, get the major officers on the planet, bring a welcoming committee to seize the ship as their officers are taken prisoner." Marshall surmised, eyes focused ahead, carefully examining every potential door or ambush point.

"But that's what I don't get." Dani continued. "If these bosh'tets were just after tech... why keep the quarians alive for however many decades? Why not just kill them all and be done with it?"

"If I knew the answer to that, Lieutenant, we wouldn't be investigating."

A pair of researchers, judging from their lab coats rather than armor, stepped right into Marshall's vision from a door three meters ahead and to his left. Marshall suspected they had been enjoying some "private time" together, judging from the disheveled appearance of their clothes and that they looked genuinely confused by the sight of the intruders rather than frightened.

Marshall didn't even need to order Dani to lock the door and change the code as he near literally threw them back into the room they had just tried to vacate. As far as he was concerned, they should feel lucky that they weren't dead after jumping right in front of him like that.

"You've been awfully quiet, Khull." Marshall observed. "I can't imagine nothing is on your mind."

The yahg sounded pensive and unsure, looking up from his omni-tool guiltily. It was clear he was thinking of _something_, but was not keen on sharing. "I have no experience with quarians or humans outside of our short interactions on your ship, and thus little to offer as to their motivations."

Marshall figured if whatever was on Khull's mind had been important to the task at hand, he'd say something, so let the issue drop. There were far too many other things to worry about, like at any turn there could be armed resistance... or a quarian woman with a wandering eye looking for way to get herself killed.

The hall forked fifteen meters further down, and as Marshall spun and turned left, he felt a very intense tug just off his right hip behind him that forced him to take a step back to maintain his balance, followed by a startled shriek from Dani.

"Hoik!" The quarian yelped as her legs kept moving forward while the rest of her body didn't seem to want to cooperate, pulling said legs out from under her and dropping her unceremoniously onto her rump on the unforgiving floor. Naturally confused by the abrupt stop in forward motion, she wondered, "What in the...?", before discovering the source of her dilemma.

A shiny round, metal clamp that she did not recognize had been locked around her belt, just left of center on her back. It was connected to a two centimeter thick line of woven dull colored metal cable, roughly five meters long, leading to another similar clamp hooked to the right hip of Marshall's belt. The captain was looking back and down at her, no doubt smiling like a recently fed vorcha.

Dani snarled menacingly at him, demonstrating another stark alien feature that distinguished quarians from humans; four sets of canine teeth, replacing one set of incisors and where the pre-molars would normally be. He recalled they also had three sets of extra teeth beyond where the mouths of humans ended... including another set of molar-canine hybrid teeth at the very end. Quarians actually had a rather frightening maw, when Marshall thought about it.

"Dani, we can't afford to have you running off right now, understand me?" Marshall said as the navigator stood up, still glaring daggers at the captain. "If you didn't want to be leashed like a dog, you shouldn't have been..." His chiding died off, replaced by an incredulous, "What do you think you're doing?"

Dani had pulled her contamination mask down off her face, and had thrust the cable into her mouth, gnawing on the woven metal cord animatedly, even making low growling noises with each clench of her jaws. Eyes still locked on Marshall's, she paused in her efforts long enough to provide an answer. "Never underestimate the power of the quarian teeth."

"Right..." Marshall deadpanned.

Khull leaned in towards the captain's ear, his outer pairs of eyes blinking warily. "Are... you sure that the quarians gave you one of their officers and not one of their people touched with a hint of space madness?"

"I wonder that myself sometimes." As long as Dani was able to fight and wasn't going to run off, she could chew on that damn thing until the suns burnt out for all he cared. "Come on, keep moving. I doubt our good luck is going to last much longer."

Dani at least stopped making noise after a while, although she didn't look any more happy about the situation each time Marshall looked back in her direction, still glaring and chomping away with that absurd number of canines.

And then the inevitable moment happened that made him forget all about Dani's little leash.

The trio had reached the outer perimeter of the domed facility, which from the layouts they had was called the "processing" section. Marshall rather wanted to find out what exactly what being processed, and into what.

Eden Prime clearly didn't want them to find out what exactly was going on in Processing, as Marshall quickly discovered why they hadn't run into any resistance, the defenders pooling their resources at the entrance.

Marshall stuck his head around the corner, ducking back behind cover as his momentary appearance was greeted by a storm of hyper accelerated weapons fire. A flurry of orders and activity followed that initial exchange, suggesting to Marshall that things were about to get a bit more dicey. He unclipped the cable holding Dani from his waist and said, "Alright... you're free. Let's try not to get into more trouble than we can handle, okay?"

The lack of response from the quarian, along with the slack in the cable as it dropped to the ground caught Marshall's attention, followed by disbelief. "No... fucking... way..." He growled, catching Khull's attention as the captain raised the other end of the cable, a meter shorter than it should have been, frayed and severed at the end, littered with teeth marks.

The sound of their enemies approaching pushed thoughts about quarian teeth on the back burner. "Well, Khull, this is gonna get a lot more interesting, at least. You ready?"

"Of course. Death is not my fate this day."

"Oh?"

The yahg seemed rather amused by the situation. "My people have a saying, that the day you don't learn something is the day you die. I can now safely say that I will not die today."

"Is that right?"

"I have learned that one should never get between a quarian and its food."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Marshall ducked back into cover, his last shot cutting through the chest of an Eden Prime guard. "I just don't _get it_!" He growled, leaning out to take three more shots, killing two more and injuring a third.

Khull took a deep, patient breath. The captain had been muttering under his breath about that 'damn stupid quarian woman' for the last five minutes. After a quick spray of automatic suppressive fire, he asked, "Are you _still _going on about that?"

"I mean, how does a species that ate _paste _about a hundred years ago gain the jaw strength to chew through micro-woven support cable? That would be like Lieutenant Michal waking up tomorrow morning with the strength of a yahg after spending centuries in zero gravity."

"And if humans had possessed the strength of yagh for millenia before having spent that time in zero gravity, it wouldn't take them long to regain what was in their genetic heritage." Khull replied. It seemed simple to him.

Marshall however, was in a state where logic wasn't his friend. Not that he was forgetting about the battle, of course. The captain already had at least twenty kills by Khull's reckoning, and had nigh singlehandedly pushed the defenders back inside the Processing sector of the facility while Khull covered the rear.

"But do you want to know what _really _gets me?" Marshall asked rhetorically. "There were _literally _three easier solutions to that problem. But nooooo... apparently that lunatic girl doesn't have enough titanium and tungsten in her diet."

That rant was punctuated by a Biotic Charge that finally cleared the double doors to the processing center, the facility's defenders in full retreat. With a double roll, Marshall was back to the junction, taking his sniper rifle from his back, expanding it to operating use, then firing a shot down the opposite hall, clipping the skull of the point man for the flanking team Khull had been keeping at bay and bringing him down.

"Let's keep moving. Stationary is death in this situation." Marshall ordered, as business like as he had been near comically ranting seconds before. Khull complied after tossing another grenade down the hall to dissuade to close of a tail, finally entering Processing proper.

"Smoke, do you have a lock on Dani's location?"

"Yeah... she's all the way on the other side of the facility." Smoke replied. "From the layout information we've deciphered, that would be the Holding Area for any live quarians."

"Of course, she's trying to find her people." Marshall sighed. "I wish she would have let us in on the plan."

"She hasn't had nearly the trouble you're having... then again, you guys were commanding all the attention. That's gonna change pretty quick, though. The grunts you've been killing are now in full retreat in her direction. Might find her to be an easier target."

Marshall was getting the sneaking suspicion that while the defenders might _think _that, the reality probably wouldn't be much more kind than continuing the scrap with Khull and himself. "Well, she has a QEC link to the bridge, so if she'll answer you, tell her we're on our way."

After terminating the communication he added bitterly, "Once we've done what we came here to do." Noticing Khull's disapproving expression, he added, "We need to find out what was so important about this place that Eden Prime was damn near willing to throw everyone they had on hand at us to keep us from getting in. Dani is going to have to handle herself in the meantime."

The Processing Center's power had been cut, adding to the grim scene as Marshall and Khull's lights scanned the surroundings. It looked like someone had taken a butchery, a clinic, and a tech store, and slammed them together with a meteor impact. "Smoke, you there? They find you yet?"

"Nah." The commander answered. "I can only imagine it would be tricky finding a single stealthed frigate hiding in the backdrop of a sun. Rest assured, we'd see them coming _long _before they'd see us. Chipper and Mayes claim they're ready for a Hit and Run. Just holler when you are two minutes from the extraction point."

"Good. I'm starting a POV recording through my HUD. I want this streaming immediately to High Command; highest encryption, highest urgency priority."

"Copy that." Smoke answered, followed two seconds later with, "Alright, Ghost. You're live."

Marshall moved down the middle of two conveyor belts that ran east-west along the length of the large main room. The crew had clearly abandoned their posts in a hurry... quarians, mercifully dead, some dismembered into several pieces, were strewn haphazardly across the conveyor, that under normal operation would have dumped them through the openings in the floor behind him.

"This is a disposal line." Khull observed.

"Mm hmm." Marshall agreed, sweeping his sidearm across his field of vision, scanning for a potential ambush. "Perhaps it's a good thing Dani _didn't_ see this."

The conveyors led through to the next room, the view shrouded due to sanitation flaps and quarian remains. A single door connected the two rooms, a heavy metal barricade with no windows. If there was a trap set, just inside that door would be a perfect place.

"You see any heat in there, Khull?" Marshall asked. His own infrared sensors on his HUD weren't not nearly as fine tuned as the natural eyesight of the yahg, as Khull had demonstrated.

"If you mean heat signatures that are vaguely humanoid, yes." Khull answered, "But they are far colder than they should be, and they haven't moved since we entered the area. If I had to wager a guess, I'd say they are recently deceased."

"Yeah... Dani _really _didn't need to see this." Marshall said with foreboding.

This entire ordeal reminded him of a Black Ops mission he had run at the start of the Oceanic War, looking to disrupt a Sedin hive compound. Even _knowing _the eugenic nightmares that lied within those pits of moral depravity, it had been one of the most fundamentally disturbing things he had witnessed.

What was waiting for Khull and Marshall on the other side of that door topped it.

The door had to be pushed open, as it lacked power like everything else. This second area was considerably larger. Another transfer line ran north-south across the length, perpendicular to the conveyor from the disposal room, which stopped three meters inside.

The north-south line was significantly different, with circular mounting brackets for what looked like medical or stasis pods. This fit quite well with the crane apparatus in the center of the room, and several rows of said pods, literally thousands all neatly lined up to fill the rest of the massive space. Those pods were filled with the oddly-cool heat signatures Khull had been seeing.

"Now that I'm closer... these heat signs are stable, even if unnaturally cold." Khull amended. These..." He paused, as if carefully choosing his next words, before settling on, "I don't know how to describe it."

"It's no stasis, that's for sure." Marshall said. "Not with the power off." He carefully approached the nearest pod, every instinct on high alert. Circling around to the windowed door at the front of the device, then seeing its contents, made his blood run cold.

The being inside had been a quarian at one point, but Marshall would be hard pressed to call it one now. The skull had been literally stripped of flesh to the bone, the entire right half covered with armored plating and a mechanical eye. It's left arm was also stripped bare, tubes, wires, and servos now blanketing the skeletal structure, and the fingers of the hand had been lengthened into ten centimeter long talons.

Nothing but thin sinews of synthetic material connected the rib cage to the hips, exposing the bare spinal column. The legs were "complete" in the sense that there was no exposed bone, the plating replacing musculature, except for the toes that had been lengthened, sharpened, and curved.

Khull had caught up, hovering over Marshall's right shoulder, all eight eyes widening in what was the yahg's version of shock. "What..." He began before his voice trailed off.

"You don't _want _to know what that looks like." Marshall said grimly, raising his sidearm and taking a single shot through the mangled abortion's chest cavity. The action startled Khull, both by its suddenness, and its intent. "Captain... what are you doing?"

"If these things are what I think they are, they aren't really alive anymore." Marshall explained, taking two strides to the next pod, and putting another round into that one. "I'm putting these poor wretches out of their misery."

With a hint of reluctance, Khull followed suit, spraying several pods at a time with his assault rifle. The pair had wrecked or at least terminated a hundred of them when Marshall's QEC cut into the spree.

"Captain!" Dani's voice shrieked, only the volume normalization keeping the quarian from deafening him.

"Dani!" Marshall demanded angrily. "What in God's name has gotten into you? Are you _insane?_"

"Yell at me later!" She shot back. "Paramilitary teams are forcing their way into the Holding Section. I can't hold them off much longer!"

"Damn it..." Marshall grumbled under his breath. Needless to say, living quarians took precedent over effectively dead ones. "Do whatever you can. Khull and I are on our way."

Marshall used his omni-tool to quickly recalculate the quickest path to Dani's location, breaking into a full sprint with Khull just a step behind. That yahg could move surprisingly fast considering his bulk and relative size of his legs.

That bulk also came in handy when the door separating Processing from Holding didn't exactly open as quickly as Marshall wanted... or more accurately didn't open at all. Gaining another burst of speed, passing Marshall, then lowering his left shoulder, Khull knocked the door completely of its frame without losing more than a hint of velocity. Marshall probably shouldn't have been surprised that Eden Prime hadn't made their doors yahg-proof.

It did make him question the effectiveness of the _Iwo Jima's _brig if Khull had really been hellbent on escaping.

Movement from the corner of his right eye caught his attention as they officially entered Holding. At least one team of specialists moving in through a secondary entrance from the south, no doubt looking to flank Dani's position.

"Khull! Deal with our friends over there. I'll continue on." Marshall ordered, pointing in that direction, only breaking stride long enough to make that order and to see the yahg comply before charging forward again, sidearm in his left hand as his right grasped the hilt on his sword. On the periphery, he saw several pens filled with quarians, pressed up against the kinetic barriers, most likely trying to figure out what all the explosions and gunfire was about.

The next door was already open, and it was fortunate that Marshall came through it and not more Eden Prime defenders, because he had a clean shot at Dani's cover position from where he emerged. Not that she didn't have that particular possibility covered, considering the small pile of bodies at his feet, as well as the casualties strewn about the entire forward segment.

"Inexperienced, my ass." He grumbled to himself. That was a discussion he could have later when they weren't all in a hot zone.

Dani drew a momentary bead in his direction when she saw his entrance, but quickly turned her focus back towards the real threat, nine hostile units slowly approaching her position, four shock troops that were heading the charge, two snipers having taken other cover points just inside the doorway they entered from, and then two engineers and a medic just on the other side of the doorway with combat drones providing cover fire.

Marshall went into action, the same angle that gave him a clear shot at Dani gave him a clear shot at the two snipers, which he quickly dispatched with his sidearm. That caught the attention of the rest of the team... not that it gave them much time to react.

He followed with a biotic charge into the shock troops, the impact alone staggering three and sending the fourth into the far wall with concussive force.

Of the remaining three, the first hadn't even regained his footing before Marshall's sword had sliced through his neck, the mortally wounded soldier dropping to the ground clutching his throat as blood gushed from the wound.

Marshall then blocked the butt of the second's rifle with a well placed forearm to forearm, doubling the trooper over with a shoulder, rolling over the man's back, then thrusting the sword backhand into the trooper's spinal column as he recovered. From that position, Marshall turned himself and the trooper, the latter working as a human shield from the shots from the backline, as Dani filled the fourth shock trooper with a shotgun charge directly to his chest.

From there, a flurry of pistol shots took down the drones and the engineers as they tried to retreat. Marshall then held up his hand in silent order for Dani to cease fire as the medic buggered out. "Nimea protocol doesn't allow us to shoot the corpsman." Marshall explained. "I've got no reason to abandon it now."

"Understood." Dani replied, lowering and holstering her weapon with the immediate threat past.

"Well, I think we have a breather for a moment, but I can't imagine that's the last of them." Khull said, appearing from the same direction as Marshall had; sporting a handful of superficial wounds on his forehead, his rifle propped on his right shoulder, while his left hand picked at his teeth. "Piece of skull." He added, finally prying the offensive bone free. "You're not the only one with some impressive jaw strength, Lieutenant."

That reminded Marshall that he was supposed to be furious at Dani, a rage that quickly dispelled when he actually readied his browbeating. "And that brings up... are you _crying_?"

Dani straightened, sniffing twice. "Trying not to, Captain."

"Why? Do you think the waterworks are going to _spare you_?"

Dani shook her head. "No sir. I... I'm just going to let them tell you. I... I... can't." The quarian woman forlornly looked at her omni-tool, then finished the command to disable the barriers keeping her people in the pens.

The trio was near instantly surrounded by quarian survivors, many of them nigh emaciated, but surprisingly few showing any evident signs of illness. One of them, an older male, stepped forward, offering a hand in greeting. "I assume you are Captain Brasser. The Lieutenant has spoken highly of you."

Marshall accepted the gesture. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage."

"Rhi'Raan vas Tonbay." The quarian's spokesman answered. "I... am the de facto captain of the prisoners."

"The Raan family is a respected name, Captain." Dani said. "They were often in command positions among the Civilian Fleet, especially in regards to our liveships during our exile from Rannoch. Admiral Shala'Raan had ceded control of the Tonbay to her son, Rhi's grandfather, when the Migrant Fleet mustered for the Battle of Earth."

Rhi's tale was largely what Marshall had expected... that his ancestors had come to Eden Prime looking simply to make repairs, and had been lured down to the surface, and the entire ship eventually dismantled, and brought down to form the facility they were now in. What had surprised him, however, was Rhi's assessment of their motivations.

"The mood was initially of a people terrified of another invasion. I suppose the fear could be rationalized considering how often it had faced an invading force in the days leading up to, and during, the Reaper War." Rhi recalled. "But... it changed. Swiftly, and for seemingly little reason."

"Changed, how?"

"Our captors began sorting us, carefully controlling our contact, often forcing us to... breed." Rhi said. "We were initially sorted by physical traits, those with a predilection to left-handedness, or with black hair. Eventually, they started isolating mutations within our number, like the goldeneye."

Dani cut in with an explanation. "Our eyes are naturally bio-luminescent, as you already know, a consequence of our nocturnal genetic history and a relatively dim star by most species' standards. Goldeneye is a rare mutation that gives our eyes a slightly yellow-white as opposed to silver hue."

"Eventually, the apparent methods for sorting stopped, yet they clearly continued to use some method, as the isolation methods continued."

"The first step was to process and study your genome." Marshall said, his hands clenching into fists. "After that, they worked to breed the mutative elements of your genetic code out of the gene pool present. Finally, they began to breed quarians to meet some particular standard."

Dani could hear the disgust dripping from Marshall's voice like a poison. "A fairly typical selective breeding practice." He snarled, his anger building at the conclusion he reached.

"Selective breeding?" Dani said incredulously, "For _what_?"

"Probably for whatever they were doing in Processing." Marshall replied, intentionally cryptic. Just like with Khull, he did _not _want to tell Dani what it _looked _like Eden Prime was doing... at least not until what he had recorded had been reviewed by High Command.

Khull's head tilted southward, and he said, "I think we're going to have company _real_ soon."

Rhi shuffled his feet nervously, then asked, "Captain, Lieutenant Dani'Arah has already explained to us that you are only one ship, and that rescue for all of us would be impossible. We have... accepted our fate. But... I must ask if there is any way you can take _any _of us from this hellish existence."

Marshall was about ready to make the same suggestion himself. Quickly to his comm, he said, "Smoke, patch me into Chipper, and hurry."

"Aye aye." The commander answered.

The next voice was the pilot's "Sir?"

"Chipper, what do you think the maximum capacity for the Yukon is?"

Her words were reluctantly spoken, suspecting she already knew where Marshall was going with this. "Officially, or 'cram 'em in as tight as we can'?"

"The latter."

Another pause, followed by an uncertain response. "Seven... maybe eight? You gotta consider Khull is damn near worth three people himself."

Marshall knew the number wasn't going to be very large... but that number was still far too small for his liking. Then, in the front row, he caught sight of a little quarian girl, couldn't have been much past learning to walk on her own, clutching her mother's leg.

"What about children?" He then asked, his heart near breaking as he saw the little girl cling even tighter to her mother when she sensed his eyes on her.

"Nine... ten... how big of kids are we talking about here?"

Soon, Marshall heard the sounds of approaching troops. "No time to talk further. Just be ready. Brasser out."

Quietly, so as not to incite a panic, he leaned into what passed for Rhi's ear, and said, "We can take ten children. Maybe nine and a guardian."

"Ten children." Rhi said with an even tone that suggested it was not up for debate. "I will decide quickly. Which way did you plan to leave?"

"Through the north exits."

With a nod, Rhi moved northward through the mass, escorting several groups to the back of the circle. He wasted little time with explanation, nor did those he had selected offer many question. When he returned to Marshall's position, he said, "We will cover your escape, Captain. It is the least we can do for the gift you have given us."

"Gift?" Marshall asked.

"To die free." Rhi said simply, giving a respectful bow to the three rescuers. "Now, go. Keelah'Selai."

To a fault, and to a man, the quarians started to group up to the south, as now the sounds of approaching soldiers could be heard to even the most untrained ears. The only exception was ten, obviously and understandably terrified children, none of them more than nine years old, Marshall guessed, not that he knew much about the rate of maturity for quarians.

Dani had stopped trying to fight the tears, the waterworks flowing down her cheeks as she kneeled in front of the children, wearing her most comfortable smile. "It's okay. We're here to take you somewhere safe. Just follow me, and stay close, okay?"

Standing and escorting them with a gentle hand on their backs, she turned to Marshall and said, "Take the lead. I'll... try and keep the little ones calm."

"Are you alright?" Marshall asked, concerned.

The navigator gave a long look back towards her people that she knew she had to leave behind. "Keelah'Selai... it means 'for the homeworld I hope to see again.' I... I had the blessed fortune to grow up never having to hear that saying. And now, I hear it for the first time from a man who knows he never will."

Marshall dropped a hand on her left shoulder, and turned her to face him, tilting his head so that he could lock eyes with hers, noticing for the first time that she had the 'goldeneye' that she had spoken of earlier. "Dani, look at me. There will be a time for tears of grief, but not now. Right now I, and these children, need you to focus. You hear me?"

She sniffed, and forcefully wiped her cheeks with her forearm, nodding vigorously. "Yes. Yes, I do. And I am. Lead on, Captain."

Which Marshall did, nimbly hopping to the front of the procession, Khull just to his right. Forcing open the door leading north, he then made the call to the _Iwo Jima_. "Two minute warning, Smoke. Let's move!"


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Smoke was currently in relative safety on the _Iwo Jima_, several hundreds of thousands of kilometers from Eden Prime... and he _still _thought Ghost had the easier part of this job. Smoke somehow had to convince two pilots that they were up to performing a highly complex extraction protocol that they had never even been trained for in what would most assuredly be a live fire scenario on both ends.

"I don't see why you have to escort me down to the shuttle bay, sir." Chipper said dismissively. "Shouldn't you be more worried about Ensign Mayes?"

"Mayes has the easy part, Flight Lieutenant." Smoke answered. "You however, are being asked to do something that even made Black Ops trained pilots knuckles go white, and to top it off, this is your first live fire scenario."

Chipper tensed at the accusation, then after a beat of silence, said, "So... you got around to reading my dossier after all."

"Nah, pilots who actually_ fought _in the Oceanic War know that you don't get a fly-by when doing an extraction."

"I wasn't allowed in combat." Chipper admitted. "My various captains throughout any hostilities had the flight boss order me to dignitary escorting or shuttle piloting. One of my superiors outright said they didn't wanna be responsible for a woman dying in flight maneuvers."

The elevator reached their destination, Smoke silently warding off Tolstoy as he and Chipper stepped off. The armory chief got the hint, quickly finding somewhere else to be.

"So yeah. I'm scared to death. I'm scared that if I have another moment's hesitation like I did on Novi, the Captain... Dani... Khull... and God knows who else, is gonna die."

"I'm glad to hear it." Smoke said. "If you _weren't _scared right now, I'd be worried you didn't know what's at stake."

The Yukon's side door slid open as Chipper approached, and she took two steps into the craft before stopping. "One hell of a way to get my first exposure to combat, huh?"

"Everyone does." The Commander replied. "Even the Captain had his first mission, ya know. He didn't come out of his mother's womb battle-seasoned. Hell, I literally wet my bedding the night before my first mission... because I had convinced myself I was going to be an obvious target because I was so much bigger than everyone else."

"And you learned you were mistaken?"

"Oh hell no. I might as well have walked into the hot zone with a sign saying 'shoot my big, fat, ugly face.' But I got through it, because I was well trained and had great support. Just like you. I doubt you were chosen as Flight Lieutnant for this ship because they wanted some 'cunt' to get the honor."

Chipper shook her head, laughing softly at the memory. "The Flight Admiral didn't want to face accusations of favoritism when this billet came up, so he had open, anonymous flight assessment and simulations for every pilot in the fleet. When my name came out, it was too late for him to renege. Asshole looked like he had been sucking on a lemon for five minutes when he ordered me to report to High Command."

Smoke nodded. "I was able to get to know some of the pilots that worked insertion and extraction for my Black Ops missions. They were _good_. I mean like stop a shuttle on a dime and get the fuck out in twenty seconds sort of good. I can _promise _you they put their names in that hat. That you beat out _them _tells me all I need to know."

"You do realize, though, as far as first times go, this isn't going to be all that bad." Smoke added after some thought. "By the time Eden Prime realizes you're there and has counter forces on the way, you'll be halfway out of the atmosphere on your way back. Just stick to the plan you were given, and things should be fine."

Chipper nodded. "Engage stealth as soon as I drop out of FTL to scramble anti-aircraft measures, stay high to negate visual lock from ground troops, then drop pretty much straight down onto the landing zone. On the return trip, take a low course to evade potential fighters en route, and hit FTL the moment we're clear of the ionosphere. Oh, and be prepared for any contingency."

"About the only contingency you should need to worry about is if for some reason Eden Prime already has intercepting aircraft in the air and waiting for you. For anything else, you should stick to your flight plan and let the Captain handle any superfluous details."

"Thanks, Commander." Chipper said warmly.

"Anytime."

Jessie then interjected over the ship's comm. "Commander Takei? Captain Brasser wants to speak with Lieutenant Dean."

"Patch him through, Michal."

"You're in."

Nervously, Chipper began, "Sir?"

Despite being what had to be a high risk hot zone, Marshall's voice was astonishingly level and calm. "Chipper, what do you think the maximum capacity for the Yukon is?"

She gave Smoke a questioning glance, which Smoke responded to with a shrug. "Officially, or 'cram 'em in as tight as we can'?"

"The latter."

"Seven... maybe eight? You gotta consider Khull is damn near worth three people himself."

A pregnant pause was followed by, "What about children?"

Chipper's questioning expression turned into outright confusion as she did some quick estimation. "Nine... ten... how big of kids are we talking about here?"

Finally, Marshall showed some signs of stress, as his parting line was rushed. "No time to talk further. Just be ready. Brasser out."

The communication terminated, and Chipper threw out her hands in frustration, "What the hell was _that _about?"

Smoke had taken two steps back. "Yeah... about that 'don't worry about contingencies thing? I lied. Especially when dealing with Captain Brasser. He's good at making things complicated. Just... think of it as a fun surprise box waiting for you at the LZ!"

At least she was starting to act like the old Chipper, grumbling to herself as she took her seat behind the shuttle's helm. As the shuttle door slid shut, Smoke made his retreat back to the bridge, to make sure the other pilot in the equation was ready.

Tolstoy slid up to him before he could step into the elevator, and asked, "I didn't mean to eavesdrop... but I have to ask. Did you really piss yourself before your first mission?"

Smoke leveled a threatening pointing finger right between Tolstoy's eyes. "You repeat that to _anyone_, and the next thing I piss is right down your severed neck. Got it?"

"Ha!" The armory chief laughed. "I'd have no grounds to hold that over you. I was a mere petty officer stationed in Trenton about fifteen years ago when a skirmish broke out dockside with a Sedin infiltration team. I wasn't even on deck when the first exchange hit. I was shore leave in a bar two kilos away when long range rounds hit the dockside. Whole bar shook like it was in an earthquake. By the time everything settled, and I was ordered to report in, I realized I had left a nice puddle on the floor at the foot of my stool."

Tolstoy blushed, and rubbed the back of his head, "I... never went to that bar again. Let's put it that way." Regaining his composure, he said, "I knew Lieutenant Dean when we were both stationed on the Honolulu. I doubt she knows it, but I do. That girl is twice as good as she thinks she is. And I have no doubt Ensign Mayes wouldn't be here if he wasn't up to any task this galaxy could throw at him."

The armory chief concluded with, "Point is... a lot of our crew might be kids, but their _good _kids. If they were type to come unglued when the pressure was on, they would have done it by now." Then with a smile, he added, "The fact they haven't pissed themselves is a good sign."

Smoke parted ways with a shake of his head and a chuckle, stepping into the elevator, and telling it to take him to the operations deck.

* * *

><p>Smoke reached the bridge, passing up his chair, and instead making as direct a line as possible to the helm. Ensign Todd Mayes kept his head forward, even as his eyes nearly swiveled to the back of his head in an attempt to follow the path of the towering commander.<p>

Smoke dropped into the co-pilot's chair that Mayes normally occupied, swiveling in the ensign's direction. "How ya doin', Mayes?"

"Doing well, sir." Mayes replied, hoping he didn't sound half as skittish as he felt.

"Nervous?"

Figuring that the commander would probably already have a pretty good gauge on it before he even asked the question, Mayes admitted, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't."

"And I can understand that." Smoke said. "This isn't an easy task... a whole lot of coordination goes into it. Come in too slow, and you leave the ship exposed under hostile fire for far too long. Come in too fast, and the people you're trying to pick up turn into a big smear across the rear of the shuttle bay, if not ripping right through both ships and leaving us _all _shit out of luck."

"Not making my nerves any less... sir."

"Not trying to, either. Might as well discover if you've got what it takes now while there's some room for error. Let's face it, we saw those ships. They're relics from a century gone by. Hell, we took at least six point blank shots that barely even registered as a blip on our barriers. Point is, let's work out the nerves _now_, so that if we come across a greater threat _later_, you'll be up to the challenge like I know you are now. That's kinda what experience does."

Mayes nodded, even if his hands were still shaking. "So, be confident... but not _too _confident."

Smoke gave him a clap on the shoulder. "Welcome to life, Ensign." He finally stood to move to his proper chair, adding, "Stick to the plan presented, and it'll all work out."

To himself, he amended. "Maybe."

He had barely sat down when Marshall cut into the comm. "Two minute warning, Smoke. Let's move!"

"And here we go..." The commander mumbled, before speaking up. "Open up the bay, Lieutenant Valanov. Chipper, get on the move the moment you're clear. Stick to the plan as much as we can. It's imperative that we do this right, the first time."

Various affirmations followed, and the Yukon appeared in front of the viewscreen, veering starboard on Chipper's set course. "Alright, full speed ahead, Ensign. Hit 'em hard, hit 'em fast, and most importantly, keep their attention. Be prepared to break off on my order."

"Aye aye, sir." Mayes responded, and Smoke felt the momentum shift as the _Iwo Jima _turned to the port.

Sensors detected the fleet now in orbit around Eden Prime, seventeen frigates, five destroyers, and six cruisers. The frigates were of little concern, even the Yukon would be able to take a handful of shots from them before any critical barrier failure. The destroyers were only a problem if they got close enough for missile barrages to be able to push through without being deflected fully. The cruisers were the primary concern, but no so much their weapons.

"Ensign Keefe, set targeting for the cruisers' drive cores." Smoke ordered. The goal to prevent the larger vessels from being able to mount a pursuit after the _Iwo Jima's _team was extracted. The smaller ships wouldn't have the fuel reserves to follow terribly long, and even if they could, would be woefully underpowered. "After that, start assigning targets to the destroyer missile bays. If we get through that with minimal disruption of the barriers, then we can start blowing some shit up."

The weapons system controller replied, "Yes, sir," then started frantically tapping on his console. He confirmed he had assigned the first targets, giving Mayes the clear to make the FTL jump to their destination.

Even with relativity mucking up perception of time, it literally took less than a minute for the jump to complete. And the instant the _Iwo Jima's _blue shift had faded, the main guns fired, soon followed by its first missile volley.

The element of surprise that came with the _Iwo Jima's _precision jump was enough to do the job, all six cruisers disabled within seconds of each other, not even time to return fire before critical power failures forced the crews to focus on abandoning ship.

That initial exchange happened so quickly that the _Iwo Jima _didn't even have to slow down, zipping through the disabled craft and using them as cover for a steep down and starboard bank, looping around to where the destroyers had tried to gain a line of sight, thanks to their target's stealth systems scrambling automated targeting.

With their own VI adjusting for the _Iwo Jima's _velocity, the freighter's next salvo rendered the missile bays of three destroyers into slag, and severely crippled the missile capabilities of a fourth.

"Sir, the search fleet has been alerted, and they are returning." Petty Officer Meyers informed, currently operating sensors while Mayes was at the helm.

"Chipper, what's your status?" Smoke asked.

From the Yukon, the Lieutenant replied, "Just dropped out of FTL, stealth engaged, and am entering Eden Prime's ionosphere. No trouble so far."

"Jump us to Waypoint B now, Ensign." Smoke ordered. "We've done what we came here to do."

"Aye aye, sir."

The next FTL jump put them in orbit of Zion, where they quickly slipped into the dark side of the gas giant. "Prepare coordinates for Waypoint C in case we need to jump again." Smoke said. "Otherwise, we hold position until we get the green light from Lieutenant Dean."

* * *

><p>Chipper did see one potential issue emerge as she entered the atmosphere of Eden Prime, from that vantage point, her sensors picked up the troops movements on the planet's surface, as well as the positioning of Captain Brasser, Dani, and Khull. They were almost to the LZ, but were currently engaged with a handful of troops that had anticipated their exit point, as well as a gunship hovering outside and laying down suppressive fire.<p>

While the gunship in and of itself actually posed little threat to the Yukon, it _would _make extraction troublesome, especially with the implication that it wasn't just the three crew that she was rescuing. Chipper doubted that anyone else coming along for the ride wouldn't have the advanced magnetic barriers to shrug off the weapons fire from the intercepting troops, much less from the gunship's miniguns.

"Captain! I can't extract anyone with that gunship running interference!" She explained quickly. "Please advise!"


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

"You have to admit, their plan was pretty clever." Khull noted, crouching down as much as possible behind the makeshift cover provided by the wall adjoining the double doors leading to the Facility's exterior. "Use the infiltrating units to flush us out, figure out which way we're going, then overload to that exit."

"Yeah." Marshall agreed, taking a quick, from the hip shot to dissuade any advance from the platoon that had taken up position outside to block their escape. "The gunship was a nice touch too."

"Unexpected development?"

Marshall shook his head, "Not really. I actually expected more than one."

"You were actually anticipating, and planning, for a scenario like this?" Khull asked skeptically.

"Yep." The captain answered, unclasping the buckle of his munitions belt while Khull took over cover fire. "Dani!" Marshall called back, where the quarian and her tiny charges were taking cover in a junction ten meters further down.

With soothing promises that she'd be right back, Dani slinked towards Marshall, using him and the wall for cover. Marshall took a handful of small round objects and stowed them away in a leg compartment, then gave her the belt, and pointed out the grenades linked to it. "Share those with our friends outside once the gunship goes down. Bring everyone forward once Khull pushes forward."

She nodded, then returned to the children, Marshall barely hearing her words of encouragment and promises that they'd soon be somewhere safe.

Khull, on the other hand, hadn't been made aware of his part of the plan. "When I push forward, you say?"

"Yeah. Between the magnetic barriers and your hide, you should be able to take enough punishment for Dani and I to do the rest. How does that sound to you?"

"Do I have a choice in the matter?"

Marshall's reply was borderline whimsical. "No, not really."

That earned him a yahg smile. "Then I love the idea."

"Good."

The banter was interrupted by Chipper, cutting into Marshall's comm. "Captain! I can't extract anyone with that gunship running interference!" She said frantically. "Please advise!"

"Stay on course, Chipper." Marshall replied. "We'll take care of that gunship. I'm going to tap into your navigation and positioning. Whatever you do, stay on course and on time."

"Copy that." The pilot answered, then went silent.

Marshall called up the status of the Yukon, carefully watching the ETA. The entire operation was a full half minute behind optimal schedule, but that was hardly a worry... he normally gave up to three minutes allowance on these sorts of extractions simply because of all the variables. As it was, the Yukon was still forty-seven seconds from the LZ... moving now would still be too soon.

At thirty seconds ETA, Chipper started getting nervous. "Captain... if you're going to do something about that gunship, I suggest you do it quickly, sir."

"Stay on course, Lieutenant." Marshall ordered simply. Twenty five and counting.

At twenty, Marshall made the call. "Khull, go!"

The yahg didn't even give a heartbeat's hesitation, spinning into the doorway and taking five full strides forward, his rifle spraying matter rounds in a wide arc, his barriers holding firm through the first five seconds of concentrated fire he took.

Which was all the time Marshall needed. Taking his Recluse off his back, he rolled through the doorway, then to his feet, gathering the energy for a Biotic Charge... forward and up, the charge placing him two meters above the gunship's cockpit.

He turned forty-five degrees to his left to get the proper alignment as he activated his mag boots, landing directly in front of the canopy, his rifle aimed and firing not even a second later, the impact of the shot killing the pilot, shattering the canopy, and sending shrapnel all around the cockpit.

Marshall disengaged the mag boots as the gunship started spiraling out of control, using a quick burst of biotics to nudge the gunship away from crashing near the LZ as well as give him clearance from the doomed craft. With a double backflip, he aligned himself with the ground, and made another Biotic Charge to close that distance.

He landed just in time for a string of explosions from the grenades Dani had been given. While the effect was fairly devastating, the purpose wasn't so much to clear the area as it was to scatter the Eden Prime forces. With the Yukon now clearly in sight and being to decelerate, Marshall tossed the smoke orbs he had taken from their compartment, forming a fairly neat curtain on both sides of the door and leading to the opening hatch of the Yukon.

Marshall then called back to Dani and their refugees. "Let's go! Move it! Go! Go! Go!"

"Come on, little ones." Dani encouraged, gently nudging the frightened huddle forward. "Quickly! As fast as you can!"

Marshall put away his sniper rifle, and retrieved his sidearm. "Khull, go left! Keep our friends busy! I'll go right!"

"Understood." The yahg answered, diving through the smoke, and opening fire almost immediately.

Marshall followed suit the other way, putting a round point blank into the skull of an advancing trooper the moment he passed through the curtain of smoke. Two more rounds and a quick draw slash rendered three more kills, and effectively got the attention of everyone else rather than try and push through the smoke.

He wasn't exactly _trying _to pad his kill count, but he knew Khull would try to make a big deal out of it once the smoke had cleared (in both a figurative _and _literal sense), and so he _may _have taken a few more intentional kill shots than he probably needed to... enough to give him a more than sizable advantage in the tally.

Chipper was clearly helping with the children, and so with the last two boarding, Marshall ordered, "Khull, break off and get on!"

"Yes, captain."

The yahg steadily retreated, still shooting as he crossed the now dispelling smokescreen, then grabbed the remaining two children in his massive arms before jumping in and landing with such force that it literally rocked the Yukon despite the shuttle's stabilizers. "Captain! We're clear!" He bellowed, startling his impromptu riders and making them squeak in fright.

Marshall didn't even bother with cover fire, breaking into a full sprint and jumping neatly on the tiny amount of space that had been cleared for him. He manually slammed the hatch shut as he said, "Get us out of here, Chipper!"

"Don't have to tell me twice." The pilot answered, accelerating as much as she felt safe to with such occupancy. "Commander, I've got our package. Get over here!"

After getting confirmation, Chipper made a quick assessment of their current situation. "AA guns are still blind to us... Eden Prime is scrambling fighters, but we should be long gone by the time they get near our position. Let's now all hope that Mayes and the Commander took care of the worst of their fleet."

This was actually the unnerving part for Marshall. Everything up to this point he had some control over; now he was helpless as two others, one of which was fresh out of the academy, tried to pull off one of the trickiest extraction maneuvers in the Nimea Military playbook.

There was going to be an ever so brief moment as the Yukon accelerated to near light speed where the cloaking system wasn't going to be able to totally shield the shuttle's emissions, and thus making them vulnerable to a quick shot from an automated targeting system. If it came from a cruiser and its main gun, it was doubtful the Yukon's barriers would be able to redirect a shell of that size and velocity. The hope was that they'd be docked within the _Iwo Jima_ before such a lock could be made.

Marshall really thought it would be a bit of a letdown if _this _was how the whole thing ended.

He never realized how tense he was until he literally flinched when the Yukon shook, realizing fractions of a second later that it was the docking clamps of the shuttle bay latching onto the shuttle. "Punch it, Mayes! Full speed to anywhere the fuck other than here!"

"Yes, ma'am." The ensign answered, jumping back into FTL before pursuit could full mobilize.

With the present danger finally over, Marshall scanned the crowded, dimly lit interior of theYukon, littered with twenty-two shimmering Quarian eyes all focused on him. Without a word, he opened the hatch, and jumped out, gesturing to Khull to hand down the children the yahg was holding.

"It's okay." Marshall whispered in the child's ear before setting the boy down on the deck. "You're safe now."

With Khull's arms clear, he hopped down and helped the rest of the children disembark. Tolstoy approached, holding up his hands in a non-threatening posture as the children shied away from the armory chief, huddling around Dani's legs.

"Who are these wee ones?" Tolstoy asked Marshall softly.

"Descendants of the survivors of the Tonbay, a quarian live ship seized by Eden Prime." The captain answered flatly.

Tolstoy picked up the subtle hints of ennui in his captain's tone, and quickly reached the proper assumption. "How many were down there?"

"More than we could have saved if we had ten thousand runs at this."

Tolstoy dropped his head, and gave it a morose shake. Meanwhile, Marshall had composed himself enough to make his next orders. "Dani, stay with our guests... do whatever you can to make them comfortable. Chipper, once you get to the bridge, needle us back to Belding. That should give us plenty of time to get our next move in place." Then to the comm, he said, "Smoke, open communication to the Iktomi, get their current location, and let Captain Frenz'Nimmel know that we have some very delicate persons that they are best equipped to care for. Once all that is squared away, have Chipper set a course to intercept."

"Copy that, Captain." Smoke answered. "I take it you need to make a very long and very soul wrenching report to High Command, then."

"Yes." Marshal said, unbuckling his helmet. "I'll be in my quarters."

With the orders made, Marshall finally removed his helmet, but nothing else, instead throwing the headgear with enraged force towards the lockers, making a hellish racket and frightening the already tense crew and refugees before calling for the elevator, and letting the door slide shut behind him.

* * *

><p>Marshall heard the man's voice before he ever saw his face.<p>

It was a very deep, very regal intonation, well educated with near flawless enunciation. He was talking with the Hive Manager, and it became clear quite quickly that they were talking about Marshall.

"Who is his dam and sire?"

"His sire is Edwin Brasser." The Hive Manager answered. "Good, strong bloodline, represented himself with highest honors in the last war. Getting a bit long in the tooth, but his genes are still strong. He's produced several top prospects in the last six years; all of them look to make exceptional contributions to the military machine."

"And the dam?"

The Hive Manager seemed more tentative at that question. "As you requested... we added more... intellectual women into the stock. This boy's dam is Gretchen Farha, a noted physicist from New Paris."

"Did she have the empathic sequence I requested as well?"

"She possessed the sequence you asked for, though she showed no signs of any inherent gifts herself." After another pause, the Hive Manager asked, "Your greatness, if I may be so bold, I am curious why you requested these changes to the breeding protocol. It is highly irregular to have such... physically wanting females in the program."

"Because I'm interested in more than simply the biggest brute Sedin can produce." The unidentified man replied sharply. "I can correct the 'flaws' I have introduced. But the elements that these women have I cannot reproduce."

Finally, the man appeared on the other side of the bars of Marshall's enclosure. His posture was straight and well practiced, black hair slicked back tight across his skull. A royal blue Sedin uniform, fairly unremarkable save for the shoulder guards, shaped into golden wolf heads rather than the flat panels reserved even for the highest ranking officers.

The man smiled in approval as he examined his omni-tool, occasionally looking down at the boy on the other side. "Yes... very good. Almost _exactly _what I am looking for. You have done well, Larrins."

The Hive Manager took a deep bow. "Thank you, your greatness. I am humbled by your favor."

"Now, dispose of this child's dam and sire."

The order stunned the Hive Manager. "My... greatness?"

"You heard me." He repeated coldly. "Kill them."

"But... why?"

The man spun about, and said, "I will have _no one _replicating my work until I have perfected it. Now, dispose of the parents. If I have to make my own arrangements to do so, you will not like the consequences."

"Yes, my greatness." Larrins said with another deep, respectful bow. "I will not disappoint you again."

"See that you don't. Now get out of my sight."

As the Hive Manager left, Marshall got another good look at the man who would be his tormenter and master for the next nine years.

A man named Heimer Sedin.

* * *

><p>Marshall slammed both fists against the elevator doors in fury, then screamed with rage, only grateful that the unbidden memory would replay once he was alone. He had known it would come the moment it became clear to him what Eden Prime had been doing to their quarian prisoners. He not only <em>knew <em>the practices they had been using, he had _experienced _them first hand.

And that knowledge ripped his heart apart and dropped it into his stomach, knowing the countless number of quarian people who had been subjected, experimented with, and often disposed like trash after the fact. If there was one thing he knew about selective breeding, it was that once the policy starts, it doesn't stop willingly, and the end result is never good for anyone.

Marshall didn't even make eye contact with Smoke as the elevator opened onto the command deck. With a brisk pace and a posture that relayed a message that he was in no mood to talk to anyone, he crossed the rear of the bridge and into his quarters. This was going to be one of the hardest reports he had ever composed...

* * *

><p>Later that night, Khull had taken his preferred place in the center of his cell, both amused and glad that the barriers and bars were no longer being used to contain him. Not that they would have been all that much of a deterrent to being with, but Khull found he appreciated the gesture for the symbol of increased trust that it was.<p>

He saw the guards at both sides of the cell turn, then salute, perking Khull's attention when Marshall appeared just outside the cell.

"Greetings, Captain." Khull said, nodding his head, but deciding not to stand. "Have your rampant emotions settled?"

Marshall correctly guessed that Khull had heard his outburst in the elevator. "For the most part."

"Good. You were deeply troubled by what you saw on Eden Prime; for what reason I will not insult you by speculating. Even if you cannot forget, you cannot let what you saw fester... your health, both physical and mental, will suffer for it."

"Any more advice, Doctor Khull?"

"Get stronger cable if you're going to leash Lieutenant Dani'Arah again."

That finally cracked a smile on the captain's face. "Noted."

Marshall flipped a small, reflective object on the palm of his right hand, the object spinning so fast that Khull didn't get a good look at it until the captain tossed it in front of the yahg's crossed legs. Bending over to pick it up, he saw it was a gold tag, two horizontal bars of gold runing the diameter of a circle etched with stars, and a nameplate in the center bearing Khull's name. He quickly recognized this as the insignia attached over the left breast of the crew uniforms.

"What... is this?" The yahg asked.

"Your crew tag." Marshall answered. "In recognition of your exceptional work on Eden Prime. Welcome aboard."


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

While Captain Nimmel had been more than willing to accept the refugees of what had been the Tonbay, word was quickly passed on from both the _Iktomi_ and High Command with a "better" idea. Which was why the _Iwo Jima _was now back-tracking the _Iktomi's _flight path towards the quarian homeworld of Rannoch.

Marshall understood there was a practical reason for the change in plans. The _Iktomi_ was a fairly crowded ship to begin with, and not really suited for children. While they were attempting to construct a Needlepoint Drive of their own with the designs provided to them, it would take _far _more time for the ten quarian refugees to find some semblance of stability with the _Iktomi_ than if the _Iwo Jima _took them home.

But Marshall knew the primary reason was a political one. News of the fate of the Tonbay was no doubt already being disseminated among the quarian people. Having their recent allies be the ones to triumphantly deliver the children to their ancestral homeworld would put a face on their rescuers and deliver a strong message that they were not the same as the criminals on Eden Prime.

On top of that, the selfish part of Marshall was annoyed that they were going the exact _opposite _direction that they were supposed to be going. Even if the delay only amounted to a handful of days, that was a handful of days that kept him from finishing the _Iwo Jima's _assigned mission, and him returning home to his _own _daughter.

That reminded him that he hadn't spoken to her since the entire Eden Prime fiasco started. Looking over to the empty seat next to him, and remembering that Smoke had asked to be excused but cryptically answering when asked why, he figured whatever it was couldn't be _that _important that he couldn't return to the bridge while Marshall checked in back home.

Initial queries to the commander's comm got no reply, suggesting that Smoke had turned it off. Now suspicious that Smoke had decided to take the opportunity to confirm his namesake, Marshall activated the VI. "Where is Commander Takei currently?"

"Commander Takei is in the Conference Room, with our quarian guests." Kelsey VI trilled happily.

Mental images of Smoke trying to teach young children how to properly light a bowl filled Marshall's thoughts, and if that proved to be the case, Marshall wanted to be one to discover it and summarily show Smoke _another _hazardous environment to try and survive in... vacuum conditions without a pressurized suit.

"Chipper, you have the bridge for the time being. I shouldn't be long." Marshall said, standing up, and towards the aft of the command deck.

He nearly ran down two petty officers with his swift walking pace, not even slowing down as they pressed themselves against the sides of the hall, avoiding even the slightest bit of eye contact. They already knew that when the captain looked that determined, someone was in deep shit, and that the best place to be was anywhere else.

The door was locked, but a quick override with his authority changed that. Smoke was already waiting right on the other side as the door slid open. Marshall instantly demanded, "Smoke, what in the..."

The commander interrupted with a hush and an index finger to his lips. He then gestured Marshall to enter and silently observe the scene. The ten refugees were either sitting or standing on one half of the table, watching, listening, and occasionally even laughing along with the projection of the young girl on the table.

Kelsey.

"What is going on here?" Marshall asked quietly

"I had been talking to Jonas last night, and between the two of us, we kinda came up with the idea of letting these kids talk with a human more their age; something to help them discover that we aren't all horrible monsters that are gonna lock them in a cage." Smoke answered. "We both decided that Kelsey was a good choice. She's a smart girl, and has a knack for handling troubled minds."

"And neither of you thought including her father on this decision might be prudent?"

Smoke looked at Marshall with regret. "You seemed... on edge... after the mission. It seemed like a good idea to let you cool off before thrusting this entire tragedy on you again."

"How much background did you give her?"

"That these kids had been held prisoner and that they've lost pretty much all the family they've ever known. Didn't want to tell her much more than that, although they've offered quite a bit on their own accord." Smoke cringed. "Some of the specifics _were _pretty intense... I tried to interject once, but your girl gave me an evil eye that she must have inherited from her mother. Uncanny, I tell you. She made it quite clear that I was gonna do no such thing, and that I was going to sit down in this corner and be good."

Marshall shook his head, chuckling in spite of himself. "How many times have I told you, Smoke; you give Kelsey a centimeter, and she's going to take a kilo?"

Smoke rubbed his forehead. "I know... and I never listen."

However, as Marshall observed the meeting, it seemed like Jonas and Smoke had stumbled onto a very good idea. The quarians looked genuinely... at ease... something that Marshall knew was not at all common among imprisoned children. They were actually happy to be talking with his daughter, and said girl was playing right to her audience.

"I don't know much of anything about Rannoch," Kelsey said, her tone bright and cheery, and astonishingly genuine in its tone even though Marshall knew it was intentional. "But I do know it has to be a lot bigger than anywhere you had been forced in before! You'll be able to run and play and have fun!"

"I don't feel much like having fun though." One of the seated children said despondently. The poor girl couldn't have been much past her toddler phase. Barely old enough to even know she was _alive_, and thrown out into a very big galaxy pretty much all by herself, a daunting task for someone from a normal life, much less from the background of what amounted to livestock.

"And you won't." Kelsey admitted. "Not right away. Some of you will take longer than others. And that's okay. But I believe you all will." Her inflection turned sad herself. "When... when my mommy died... I could _feel _it. I mean, literally _feel _it. Deep in my heart. It hurt so much. It felt like I'd never smile again."

Marshall could feel the memories bubbling up, and he forced them back. Now was not the time. He wasn't ready to face them. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Smoke seemed to agree, seeing the distress cross Marshall's face. "Hey. Don't start going there." The commander warned.

Marshall glared daggers at Smoke. He was _trying _not to, damn it.

But where Smoke's warning started dragging his mind away from that loss, Kelsey's next words finished the job. "But I did. It wasn't right away, and it wasn't all at once. But with each day, it got a little easier to smile... to laugh... to have fun... to live. And it will be the same for all of you. You want to know why?"

A chorus of quarian voices asked, "Why?"

"Because when you give up on living, when you surrender to sadness, everything that was done to bring you to this point, to bring you home, will mean nothing. By making you sad and unhappy, that's how the mean people who did those terrible things to you win. Even after they are long gone, if you give up on happiness, they win. That's what my daddy taught me. And I won't let my hurt win, and I don't think you will either."

Marshall shook his head in awe. "When did my daughter become smarter than me?"

Smoke scoffed. "Hell, she came outta Alice smarter than you." Giving a glance at his omni-tool to check the time, he added, "I suppose I should probably start wrapping this up. Kelsey's actually supposed to be in class right now."

Marshall put a restraining hand on Smoke's shoulder, and said, "Let them have all the time they need. Captain's orders."

"Okay." Smoke confirmed as Marshall turned about, and returned to the bridge, reminded that sometimes good things can come even out of the worst scenarios.

* * *

><p>Later that night, Marshall looked over the response he had received from High Command, much of it expected, and some of it not quite so. There really wasn't any more holding back at this point, Dani needed to know what had been determined, if she didn't know already.<p>

"Lieutenant Dani'Arah, are you available?" He asked through the comm.

Dani's response was surprisingly fast. "Yes, sir. Do you need me?"

"I do. Meet me in my quarters."

"Aye aye, sir."

Not even two minutes later, a beep at his door told him she had arrived. "It's unlocked."

The quarian navigator entered, and Marshall gestured to the corner of his bed as he spun his chair about from the desk. Dani complied, taking a seat as Marshall gathered a very deep breath. This was _not _going to be easy.

"I wanted to wait to tell you what Khull and I had found in the Processing section of the Tonbay facility when High Command could confirm it. I was nigh certain as it was, but I wanted to hold out hope that it wasn't how it looked."

Marshall finally activated his omni-tool, displaying an image he had recorded from one of the pods in Processing. Dani's hand flew to her mouth in dismay. "Is that..."

"It looks like a quarian husk." Marshall confirmed. "The technology I was able to scan was also confirmed to at least be similar to Reaper design and operation."

"Keelah..." Dani whimpered. "Why?"

"We don't know." Marshall answered. "We're not even sure where they got operational Reaper tech or the means to replicate facsimiles. But one thing that really worries me, and High Command, is that if they remain true to Reaper processes... husks were what they make out of the _rejects_. And if that is the case, that means the 'pure' quarians they were breeding were going somewhere else... for a purpose I _really _don't want to contemplate."

Dani's breathless whisper carried that same conclusion, "You don't think..."

"I don't even want to go there. Neither does High Command." Marshall said, reaching behind him to grab the data pad on his desk. "I wanted to show this to you in case you didn't get the news from Rannoch yet."

Dani's brows furrowed in curiosity as she took the pad, and started to read it's contents, the tears welling up as she did so.

_Two months ago, we learned we were, graciously, not alone in this galaxy after all._

_ Two days ago, we learned that we weren't the last bastion of humanity in the galaxy._

_ One day ago, we learned that we in fact were._

_ The inhabitants of Eden Prime are no longer what we would consider "human;" as they tossed aside any claim to the common decency towards fellow life that the people of Nimea consider sacrosanct. The crimes they have committed to our newfound allies are unconscionable, intolerable, barbaric, cruel, monstrous, and any other malevolent adjective I could use to describe them._

_ We will do more than stand by our quarian allies as they face the dark reality of the fate of their people on Eden Prime. We shall stand and lead the charge against the criminals responsible. It is with that determination that we announce our unilateral and unanimous declaration of war against Eden __Prime. Our efforts towards expanding our interstellar fleet will be doubled with our goal set; nothing but due justice delivered to those responsible for the atrocities committed on our allies. We even have the backing and support of our Sedin brothers in this mission, even the Consulate of our sister nation troubled and disturbed by the nature of the maliciousness of the "humans" of Eden Prime._

_ Our planet stands united for the first time in nearly a century, united by a common foe, and soon... very soon... the monsters of Eden Prime will learn the peril of angering the might of Reticuli. To the people of Reticuli Prime; may our valor shine where the light of humanity has failed, and to our quarian friends; you are not forgotten, you are not alone._

_ We stand with you. We stand for you. And together, we will stand victorious._

_ Thank you, and God bless._

"That was from the press conference the Prime Minister held this afternoon. They're fairly empty words at this point, honestly." Marshall said with a wry smile. "It will be at _least _another six months before Nimea Military Forces has retrofitted or constructed enough ships to justifiably call an interstellar fleet. But make no mistake, Dani, the next visitors Eden Prime receives will arrive with the full intent to pound that entire forsaken planet into glass." He then noticed Dani's state, and said, "Dani? Are you okay?"

The quarian was now outright crying, the tears dropping onto her uniform slacks. She welcomed Marshall's comforting hand on her shoulder, and returned the data pad. "My people... have been used to being alone. Even before The Pulse, the quarians were largely outcasts, distrusted, shunned... our flotilla was rarely welcome, our pilgrims barely tolerated even in the best of times... the knowledge that my people were even _part _of a greater galactic community was so long ago it felt like it never really happened."

"So, I'm sorry, Captain, for behaving this way." She continued, wiping her face with her sleeve. "It's been so long since the quarians have had allies... to know that we now do is a little overwhelming. I probably should collect my wits." Standing, she asked, "Is there anything else you need?"

"Not at the moment." Marshall answered, but as Dani took two steps, he said, "Actually... there is."

The quarian stopped and turned around, now obviously nervous. "Oh?"

"I really don't want to have this talk right now, but I think we have to." Marshall declared, now disapproving. "We really have to talk about your behavior and actions on the field. This isn't the first time you've run off and done your own thing, breaking position and wandering off on your own."

"I am... sorry, Captain." She stammered. "I... I'm really not used to squad maneuvers. I... never really had to do it much."

"Yeah, I dismissed it initially for that same reason." Marshall replied smugly. "But the more I thought about it, the more it didn't add up."

"W... what do you mean?"

"Every time you 'wandered off', we discovered something. Like a body of a Cerberus researcher, or living geth platforms... or living quarians." Marshall tapped his omni-tool, displaying a graph that Dani did not recognize. "Each time just before you ran off, the _Iwo Jima _logged you accessing our communications, and sending off information towards the _Iktomi_. You then disappeared, or attempted to, shortly after receiving a reply. It was very cleverly encoded... and encrypted... and compressed in size so that it didn't immediately draw much attention."

At this point, the tears were dry on Dani's face, her expression stern, yet she remained silent.

Marshall took it as a sign to continue. "Then on Eden Prime, I find you largely unhurt, the bodies of roughly twenty Eden Prime soldiers littered around you, which in and of itself would be impressive, even more so considering that when I found you, you weren't exactly in the most defensible position I've ever seen."

"Your point, Captain?" Dani asked coldly.

Marshall slid over to Dani's left side. "The point is that your actions, and your results, are consistent with a fairly seasoned combat veteran. But the dossier I was given from Captain Nimmel doesn't exactly match what I have observed. But you want to know something funny? You wouldn't be the only one on this ship whose personnel file doesn't exactly match their true experience."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Mine and Commander Takei's are the same way."

Dani straighted, and refused to make eye contact, instead looking straight ahead. "I wouldn't know anything about that, sir."

"Of course you wouldn't." Marshall said knowingly. "You're dismissed, Lieutenant."

Dani saluted sharply, still refusing to make eye contact, turning about to her right to avoid doing so. She made a quick exit, momentarily startled as she nearly ran into Smoke three strides past the door, swiftly side-stepping him and continued her retreat as Smoke took her place in Marshall's quarters as the captain sat down at his desk again.

"So, am I right in assuming you just confronted Miss Dani'Arah about the... inconsistencies in her dossier?"

"Yep. I'm not sure if the quarians have a direct correlation to our Black Ops, but whatever their closest analogue is, I'd bet credits on Dani being one of their number."

"Is that going to be a problem?" Smoke asked.

Marshall shook his head. "Nah. Do you honestly think Nimea would give the quarians _our_ full dossier if one of us were to serve on a quarian ship?" He tapped his fingers on his desk thoughtfully, "I'm sure there's a nice big story behind why Captain Nimmel wanted her here, and I doubt it's anything malicious towards us. I'll keep an eye on her, just in case, but I don't think she'll be a problem."

After another moment's thought, he added, "In a way, it's actually quite handy to know that she's seen her share of fighting, especially someone who knows how to keep quiet about it. I suspect we'll find her addition to be more a blessing than anything else when all is said and done."


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Infiltrator Platform 709 had been largely unobtrusive ever since coming on board. It largely stayed in the Life Support section, venturing out only on rare occasions where it felt it could be of assistance (it had found a niche on the ship performing small-scale hardware and software repairs), and a handful of times out in the mess hall in an attempt for sparse discussion.

"Seven" certainly wasn't scaring anyone. More than a handful of crew members had approached it, and the geth had been more than respectful and genial in those exchanges, but all the same had decided it would be for the best to stay to itself rather than unintentionally cause a stir.

Which is what made it's appearance on the bridge quite surprising.

"Brasser-Captain?"

Marshall nearly jumped at the voice, astonished that the geth was able to move so silently that it didn't even pick up on his abnormally sensitive ears.

"I am sorry, Captain." Seven said, although it was impossible even for Marshall to tell if it was genuinely apologetic. Marshall hadn't experienced the geth's vocal cues enough to be able to make that judgment, or even if it had any at all. "If you are occupied... I can address my issue later."

"Oh, no. You merely startled me, and I'm not used to being startled." Marshall answered. "What brings you to the bridge today, Seven?"

"There is a perplexing matter that I need to discuss, and I did not wish to engage in that discourse over the comm. May I recommend your quarters so as not to take more of your time off the bridge than necessary?"

"Sounds like a plan, Seven. Follow me." Marshall said, standing up. "You have the bridge, Smoke. I shouldn't be long."

Marshall opened the cabin door, and let Seven in first, letting the door shut behind him before asking, "Alright, what is on your mind?"

Seven turned to its equivalent of an omni-tool, tapping out a command while saying, "I received a troubling transmission from Rannoch."

"A transmission? From who?"

"Her name is given as Senator Rylai'Raan, she claims to be the Senatorial Chair, which superficial study of Rannoch's governing body does confirm." Seven said. "Allow me to replay the message in its entirety."

There was no visual given to the recording, which confirmed to Marshall that Senator Raan wanted to keep this communication on the down low, as video expanded a message's size immensely and made the transfer more easily detected. Yet, it used audio to give it a personal touch that simple text did not.

The voice was definitely quarian, possessing several auditory inflections either uncommon, or impossible, with the human voice box. It was also feminine, yet with a very low chamber that Marshall was surprised to hear. "Greetings, Infiltrator Platform 709. I am Senator Rylai'Raan vas Shari nar Rannoch. I am the Senatorial Chair of the Rannoch Senate, and I am communicating to extend personal welcomes and invitations to you, and a hope that you will take time to experience the world both our people had come to call home for centuries. I, and the people of Rannoch, would love to see you in person."

The transmission ended, and Seven said, "The contents of the message were not the issue, but that I received it at all. This is troubling because there should be limited knowledge on Rannoch that the geth exist at all. The creator people should not know of my presence, much less on this vessel."

"Perhaps your leader made contact with Rannoch to negotiate the technology they received from us." Marshall offered.

"Negative, Brasser-Captain." Seven answered. "Prime Platform 391 _did _initiate contact, but with Nimea, not Rannoch. Our standby processes overheard much of the conversation Miss Dani'Arah had with you before our full re-activation. Prime Platform 391 decided it would be best to avoid direct contact with the creator people until a more concrete estimation of how our reception would be received."

After a pause that was most likely nervousness than thought, the geth suggested, "I do not mean to sound accusatory to a member of your crew, but it is my suspicion that Miss Dani'Arah may have revealed this information to her people."

Marshall's lips tightened. "Oh, I think it's more than a suspicion, Seven." He opened the comm, and said, "Smoke, you and Lieutenant Dani'Arah need to meet me in the conference room in ten. LC, you have the bridge. Get up here ASAP."

* * *

><p>Once the four were assembled in the conference room, Marshall focused right on his quarry. "Dani, I was going to let this topic slide last night, but new developments rather forced my hand."<p>

Dani found herself in a room with two Nimean Paramilitary Specialists and a geth, and was understandably concerned about where this conversation was going. "Developments, sir?"

"Play the message, Seven."

At the conclusion of the invitation, Dani slumped back against the wall, dropped her face in her hands with a groan before running both along the top and back of her head, then letting her arms drop tiredly. "There's going to be trouble."

"Trouble how?" Marshall demanded.

Dani leveled a suspicious stare in his direction and asked, "Would you disclose top secret information pertaining to your operations to me if I asked?"

Marshall eliminated any respect for Dani's personal space, looking down at her as she looked up to where their noses were nearly touching. "Right now, the Iwo Jima is seven hours from what you so suspiciously labeled 'trouble', with ten quarian children on board, if you need the reminder. So yeah, I think this is a case where you need to spill your guts before I spill them _for _you."

Dani, contrary to the image she liked to project on the _Iwo Jima_, was very brave and more than capable in a fight. But she had seen the captain in action, and would not have liked her odds in these small environs one on one, much less with a commander who was more than dangerous enough in his own right, and a geth no doubt beholden to come to the defense of both of them.

"Alright, but I think we need to start with a primer course in quarian politics." Dani finally relented. "May I sit down?"

Marshall finally backed off, and let Dani do so, taking his seat at the head of the table shortly after.

"There are five primary families within the quarian leadership structure. Their leadership, and their attitudes, in some cases extend all the way to before the Morning War." Dani explained. "The biggest point of contention has been, and still is, the issue of the geth."

"The Koris family holds three seats in the Rannoch Senate, as well as a majority stake in several regional assemblies. They've traditionally always been most supportive of the geth, although they more held out hope for geth still living than constructing new ones... they generally feel making more is an insult to those that we finally established peace with."

"Admiral Zaal'Koris had been one of the important figures in finally attaining peace with the creator people." Seven noted. "It would seem I would have received the invitation from one of their family then."

"I'm getting to that bit." Dani said testily. "The next primary family is the Xen family. You may remember me telling you of a regional representative from that family actively seeking to build new geth platforms. They... tend to view geth as they originally were, as tools, VI programs at best. They hold very little value in synthetic life of any type. The geth being built at Daros'Xen's factory would have reflected that ideal."

"And thus the... aggressive reaction from a 'freelance mercenary team', I'm guessing." Marshall said darkly.

Dani ignored the jibe. She'd be getting to _that _as well. "Which brings me to the next family within the structure. The Gerrel family have traditionally been war mongers, they actually hold very few political seats, opting instead to have a strong presence in the military. They view the geth as something that needs to be purged and exterminated. They are consistently at odds with Koris and Xen families."

After a breath, Dani continued. "The Zorah family... is somewhat splintered, and as a result does not have nearly the political or military clout of the others, thanks to the geth issue. The fracture occurs between two famed and well respected members of the family taking two very different opinions on the matter. Rael'Zorah was as much, if not more, of a war hawk than his allies within the Gerrel clan. His daughter, Tali'Zorah, became a very vocal advocate for peace, and has the fame of being a hero of the Reaper War to her credit."

"Tali'Zorah?" Marshall asked. "Is she the same one that served with Commander Shepard on the Normandy?"

Dani looked astonished. "Yes! One and the same! You know of her?"

Marshall couldn't help but crack a grin. "It might surprise you to learn that Tali'Zorah vas Normandy had _visited_ Reticuli Prime." Letting the smile vanish, he said, "But that is a story we can share some other time. I assume this Rylai'Raan is a member of the fifth family. What's their angle in all this?"

"Traditionally, they've been peacemakers between the extremes... but they are also extremely opportunistic to seize whatever advantage they think might be there. They'll support the Gerrels one minute, then turn right around and support the Koris the next. Keelah, they must think it's in their best interests that the families remain at each others throats."

Dani then focused her attention on Seven. "Which, no doubt, is why Senator Raan sent you that message." Rubbing her forehead, she explained further, "That woman is no doubt trying to provoke Admiral Rhen'Gerrel into doing something rash and stupid."

The quarian took another deep breath. "It stems from the entire Daros'Xen incident eleven years ago. When discovery of his plans were made, Senator Raan authorized the deployment of the Senatorial Special Operations and Tactical Unit to the authority of the Rannoch Heavy Fleet. Admiral Gerrel gave the order to eliminate the factory and erase all evidence of what had been attempted there. The captain in charge of planning the operation..." She paused to lock eyes with Marshall, "... was a man named Frenz'Nimmel."

"And a young Lieutenant, probably just initiated into Special Ops and named Dani'Arah, was assigned to the team to execute the mission?" Marshall surmised.

"I had been in active service for a year, I'll have you know." Dani protested. "And I was _leading _the team. _I _did _my _job, and quite well, for the record. The factory was destroyed and my team left no evidence."

"What about the quarians working in the factory?" Smoke asked, cringing slightly because he suspected he already knew the answer.

Dani's answer left little room for interpretation. "We left _no _evidence."

"Obviously, word got out somehow if the aftermath you told us about was accurate." Marshall said.

"There was a leak somewhere in the Senate." Dani said. Marshall could almost _feel _the sarcasm in her voice. "It revealed the nature of our mission and of the factory we had been sent to eradicate. The blowback was as intense as I explained... Rannoch was on the verge of civil war until Senator Raan 'managed' to broker a peace between the feuding families. By sheer coincidence, the political capital she gained in doing so earned quarians supporting the Raan family significant seats in nearly every assembly."

"And then just 'happened' to hide you and Captain Nimmel and everyone else associated with you, with the crew on the Iktomi." Marshall concluded. He had been down _that _road; used then buried somewhere that he wouldn't be seen. "Seven... I think it would be prudent if you decline their invitation."

"It won't matter. If this is what I think, the news of the rescue of the children is going to be _completely _trumped by the 'return of the geth.' The quarians are going to think ten children is cute and all... but _the geth_! _That's big news_!" Dani could not be laying the sarcasm on any thicker. "Senator Raan probably had disseminated that bit before she ever composed her message."

"Alright, Lieutenant... then how do you propose we proceed?"

"_If _Admiral Gerrel does something rash and stupid, and he just might, he's going to want to make a scene this time." Dani assessed. "He got burned by his previous actions being top secret. He's going to want _everyone _to see what is going on. Gerrel might be a hothead, but he's _not _stupid. He's also not going to anger Reticuli Prime and shatter the alliance we have just made. Your people still have too much that he would want."

Dani gave it some thought, before accessing her omni-tool. "It's going to be small-scale, it's going to be visible, and it will be something that gives him suitable deniability and weaken Raan's political position... and preferably remove the 'stain' of the geth in the process. I'd say we play along for now, stay ready, and _if _something happens, we'll take it from there."

"We're sure we can't just blow this whole thing off?" Smoke grumbled.

"Funny thing about alliances, especially new ones, you have to play nice. I'd rather like to see Nimea and my daughter again." Marshall responded. "Are you okay with this, Seven?"

"I would like to see the homeworld again." Seven replied. "It's been a century since I last saw it. I am curious to see what has changed. I will not let the threat of violence deter me."

Marshall nodded. "Alright, Dani... I guess we have to play the hand we're dealt. You know Rannoch, you know the players involved. You'll be running point for this. Let's get back to our posts."

As they prepared to leave, Seven stopped Dani with a gentle hand, and her name. "Miss Dani'Arah?"

The quarian didn't flinch or recoil, as the geth expected. "Yes?" She said simply.

"Why did you lead the attack on the factory trying to build more geth?"

Dani shrugged. "I was ordered to. Does there need to be another reason?"

"Yes."

She took a deep, slow breath and exhaled it just as slowly. "The geth represent the worst failings of my people."

"You blame us?"

Dani shook her head."Hardly. The geth represent our pride, our arrogance, our sloth and our avarice. They were created because we no longer wanted to _lower_ ourselves to menial tasks. Petty labor like growing our own food or cleaning our own homes were _beneath us_. So we created machines to do such _trivial things_ while we did jobs more suited to our station."

Dani finally turned her head to look at Seven. "_That _is what Daros'Xen had the nerve to try to recreate. He wasn't interested in rebuilding the life that had just come to be. He wanted new slaves to control. He refused to heed the lesson of our history, and I was not going to let that crime to ourselves happen again. I was not going to let the geth be used as a crutch again."

She put extra emphasis on her next words. "I do not hate you, Infiltrator 709. I will defend your right to live with my own life if need be. Do not _ever _doubt that."

"Let's hope you never have to _prove it_, Miss Dani'Arah."


	28. Chapter 28

_Author's Note: Boy, did I have a lot of trouble getting this chapter to sound right. Meanwhile, the EC has required I go back and... retool a lot of the upcoming story. Couple this with my (supposedly) money-making writing... installments are going to be fewer and farther between._

_Sorry._

**Chapter 28**

"ETA twenty minutes to Rannoch, sir. If we're going to make a choice, we best do it now. Avedas Control kinda wants to know if they need to prepare for a shuttle or a frigate landing."

Marshall knew what High Command wanted him to do; a full planetary landing, pomp and circumstance, making a grand ol' show of quarians returning home, and the humans who rescued them. It's why he, and the entire crew, were all decked out in their dress reds looking every bit as uncomfortable as they felt.

But at the same time, if Dani was correct in her assessment, he didn't like the idea of the entire crew and the _Iwo Jima _locked planet-side as "trouble" was brewing. "As I said, Dani... you're on point for this. Should we play it safe?"

Dani turned about, and replied, "Admiral Gerrel might be hot-headed, but he's _not _stupid. He's not going to attack an allied vessel, not unless he wants to be the most wanted criminal on Rannoch. Trying to target Seven with an attack at port would be too transparent. He needs some degree of deniability."

Marshall released a heavy breath, and ordered, "Let our escorts and the port authorities know that we'll be landing the Iwo Jima. Might as well make getting all dressed up worth it."

Chipper took a deep breath. She had run simulations of this sort of thing, but had never actually landed anything larger than a shuttle on a planetary surface. "Now watch me crash this thing on the quarian homeworld. Because, hey, why should anything come easy for us at this point?"

Marshall was on the comm soon after, "Khull, are you in the bay?"

"Yes, captain." The yahg answered simply.

"How are the kids?"

"A little anxious, a little scared. Neesh said something about the best dream she ever had. It probably won't sink in that it's real until they see more of their kind waiting for them. Lieutenant Valanov is telling them a story... what was the name again, Lieutenant? Lolita?"

"_What?_" Marshall bellowed.

"He's kidding. He says it's The Brothers Karamazov." Another beat, and a follow-up, "That is apparently _also _a joke."

Marshall rubbed his forehead with his right hand. "Just make sure they're secured for when we land. Chipper's kinda new at this, so it might be bumpy." To his navigator, he said, "Dani, head down there and help them."

"Understood, sir." The navigator replied, standing and making her exit.

"I suppose I should figure out who else will be on the landing party..." Marshall mused to himself. "Get this over with as quick as we can, then get out of here."

"What? No shore leave?" Smoke jibed.

Marshall stared down the commander with such intensity that Smoke cringed. "First of all, it's not like you'd be able to simple the local cuisine. Second of all, we have a mission we still have to complete. We don't have time to be gallivanting about."

It didn't even take Marshall three blinks to reverse course. Pinching the bridge of his nose and wincing, the captain side, "Work out a rotation, Smoke. Three shifts will get four hours on Rannoch... give everyone a chance to at least get a short look around. They all deserve it."

Smoke nodded, and was right to work on his omni-tool. "People just gonna have to accept I'm taking command right this time. I've been nice and let the crew have first dibs plenty of times."

"Won't matter. You'll be part of the landing party." Marshall said. "If trouble _is _going down, I want you there."

Smoke nodded. "Got it."

"Jessie, be ready... you're coming too. This is more a political show than anything else, and nothing scores points quite like speaking their language."

Jessie momentarily seemed surprised by this, but nodded swiftly. "I won't let you down, sir."

"Chipper, Mayes... you're in as well."

The two pilots seemed surprised by this. "Both of us?"

"You both played critical roles in the operation. The Rannoch Senate specifically requested your presence." Marshall explained. "Not like we're going to be able to hop in and fly off if this goes horribly sideways with the Iwo Jima planetside, right?"

"I... suppose that's true." Chipper said reluctantly.

Smoke added his thoughts. "And on top of that, the entire ceremony is going to be broadcast to Reticuli Prime. Think of all those captains in your past who wouldn't let you fight watching you being commended by another planet's leaders."

Chipper's ears perked at that thought. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. I'm sure it's gonna be must see video for damn near everyone. Your parents might even watch." Marshall said. Funny thing was, despite he and Smoke laying on thick, none of it was much of a stretch, if at all. "You did good out there, Chipper. You deserve to be recognized." Extending the thought to Mayes as well, he added, "You both do."

The Flight Lieutenant finally relented. "Well, when you put it _that _way..."

That didn't mean she was exactly looking forward to it.

* * *

><p>Her discomfort didn't go unnoticed, especially since she got more anxious after the <em>Iwo Jima<em> touched down and the crew had assembled at the shuttle bay doors for the big arrival event.

"It's pretty simple, Mayes. I'm a pilot. Not a soldier. I like having a big ship with a couple meters of armored plating between me and people who would like to eat my face."

Mayes clenched one eye shut. "And what is it with you and face eating, ma'am?"

Chipper shrugged. "Parents who were big fans of gruesome horror stories when I was growing up. Zombies and werewolves and vampires love the taste of face, as far as I can figure."

"Do not worry, Chipper." Dani said. "I do not believe my people will try to chew on you."

"Why not?" Khull deadpanned, "They can apparently chew through damn near everything else."

"Enough." Marshall interjected darkly, raising his hand to his ear to catch the incoming communication he received. "Yes, Avedas, we hear you. If you're ready, we are."

"About time." Smoke grumbled. "It's not like we've been sitting here for an hour or anything."

"Open it up, Tolstoy." Marshall ordered the armory chief.

The main doors to the _Iwo Jima _were a quick release system that supposedly would allow for full opening to occur within three seconds; a fairly vital piece of technology for quick deployment and extraction. It sure as hell felt a little longer than three seconds... but he had figured it was just him until Smoke spoke up.

"So... is this thing gonna open up sometime this year?" The commander asked.

"Dramatic effect, sir!" Tolstoy responded.

Even Khull devoted all eight of his eyes to glare at the armory chief. The silent message from the entire assembly made their point, as the door abruptly dropped the rest of the way to the surface of Rannoch, though the ship itself blocked much of the initial view.

"Go ahead, Dani." Marshall said. "Lead the way."

"Come along, little ones. It is time to see the home that you only heard in stories." Dani encouraged the children, taking two small hands in hers as she slowly walked down the ramp. The cheer that Marshall expected upon their appearance was even louder than he had anticipated, and startled the children to the point that three of them started to retreat back up the ramp until Dani managed to cajole them back down.

As they disappeared around the exterior of the _Iwo Jima_, Dani stopped and turned about, holding up both hands to ward off the crew as they began their steps down the ramp. "Stop! Wait!" She said urgently. "Let the captain go first!"

"Why?" Marshall asked, finding the expression on Dani's face concerning.

"Just do it!" The quarian answered, her smile broadening to reveal her inhuman number of canines.

Smoke quickly agreed, slapping Marshall in the back. "Yeah. Go for it. You of anyone should."

"Captain's right, and it's one you should take." Khull concurred.

"There's pretty much no chance this is going any further until I agree, is there?" Marshall glowered.

"That's right!" Dani chirped, her smile far too sweet for there _not _to be an ulterior motive to all this.

Frowning, Marshall took the lead, down the ramp, and onto the setting Rannoch sun. Dani was still grinning like a lunatic once both his feet transitioned from the steel ramp to the planet surface, and prompted the captain to ask, "Now, are you going to tell me why this was so important?"

"You are the first alien being to set foot on Rannoch since Commander Shepard." Dani acknowledged. "It was an honor I wanted you to have."

"Really."

"Come now. The people of Rannoch are eager to meet you!"

With Marshall's exit, the rest of the landing party made their departure, following as Marshall turned the corner and out of the shadow of the _Iwo Jima_.

The first thing he noticed was that what he had assumed was the Rannoch sun near twilight was in fact more consistent with the middle of the evening. Marshall reminded himself that Tikkun was dimmer star than Reticuli Alpha, and Rannoch as a result did not receive nearly as much visible light.

The crowd that had assembled was indeed immense in its size; Marshall wondered if half of Rannoch was there.

Dani sided up to him, and muttered, "That wasn't really why I wanted you down here first. With the noise of the crowd, I can talk more freely."

"Is that so?" Marshall replied softly, giving a friendly wave to the masses as the pair paused in their progress.

"Do you see all the paramilitary units here?"

Marshall nodded. "I figure they are the armed ones wearing the black suits."

"Correct. They are _all _Special Tactics and Operations. Not a single Rannoch Military unit among them."

"I'm guessing this is significant."

"It is. Senator Raan is putting nearly all of the units directly under her authority to watching the Iwo Jima."

"Thoughtful."

"It also means that units under Admiral Gerrel's authority will be the primary security at the commendation ceremony tomorrow."

"Is that a cause for concern?" Marshall asked.

"Gerrel wouldn't _dare _try something when he's the one that would have to answer for the failure of security. It tells me she wants the bait to be somewhere else along the line, after the ceremony."

Marshall felt a tug on the slacks of his uniform, and he looked down to see one of the refugee children looking up at him, Ulin'Karr if Marshall remembered correctly, the boy's expression blank and unreadable.

Omni tools and recording drones starting hovering over the scene like vultures, anticipating image gold.

Deciding it best to ignore the cameras, Marshall knelt down. "What can I do for you, Ulin?"

The child bit his lower lip, and stammered, "Can... can you tell your daughter that I... that I have her omni-tool ID... and that... that I will message her... when I... when I get one of my own?"

Marshall playfully tousled the boy's hair, and said, "If she isn't already trying to send a message of her own to every quarian omni-tool in existence, sure. Oh... hey!"

The captain found himself surrounded by the refugee children, creating a scene that looked and felt so contrived that it couldn't have been. Whether plotted or not, it had the effect of drawing every nearby recording device. Marshall spared a handful of words, accepted their thanks, and gently ushered them to the quarian officers that had been trying to corral the kids.

To his left, Jessie was doing exactly what Marshall had hoped, charming a small mob of interviewers with her genuine cheerful enthusiasm and willingness to speak quarian. "She's been practicing. With you, I assume?"

"Yes." Dani acknowledged. "You can barely tell her accent at this point, and she's gotten a quick grasp of how the language has changed."

"Hunh. And here I was thinking the two of you were just sexing each other up."

"That too."

"You realize she's probably close to half your age."

Dani huffed, and crossed her arms. "Thirteen years, for the record."

"And she's twenty."

"Still not half my age."

Khull squinted as he stepped into the "light," the yahg growling irritably as he approached, his two outermost eyes clenched shut. "No, this won't be bothersome." He snarled with blatant sarcasm.

"Trouble there, big guy?" Marshall teased.

"Other than this planet is bathed in infrared light, no. No problem at all."

Marshall was both surprised and yet not. Despite the lower luminescence, Rannoch was astonishingly hot... which suggested Tikkun was pumping out _some _form of energy outside human's visible spectrum.

"Rah! A world where the apex predator suffers." Dani teased. "I suppose us quarians can feel safe that we won't be hunted by the yahg any time soon."

"Not here, at any rate." Khull agreed.

The appearance of Khull also served to break any tenuous hold the quarian caretakers had on their new charges, all ten kids mobbing the towering yahg. If there was any doubt remaining that Khull could not be a peaceful being, the sight of him playfully chasing a bunch of children back towards their caretakers with a playful, laughing roar would have dashed those.

It was at that point that Marshall was approached by a quarian in a formal violet uniform vest with white undershirt, and a violet dress skirt that covered her feet. Long black waist length hair was pulled to her back, flecked with gray, carrying a very regal and authoritative posture with each flowing measured stride.

Dani snapped to attention, and saluted respectfully, and the quarian gave her a courteous nod before focusing on the human in front of her. "Captain Marshall Brasser, I presume?" She extended a hand and a polite bow. "Senator Rylai'Raan. I am glad to finally make your acquaintance. I wish to save any formal and official praise for the ceremony tomorrow, but for now, I want to extend my gratitude to you, your crew, and the Nimea Military Services, for the valor, graciousness, and friendship you all have extended in the wake of the dark truth found on Eden Prime."

Marshall then offered a salute of his own. "It is an honor, Senator."

"The Lieutenant has reported about you often. All of it glowing, I assure you." Rylai added, making Dani squeak in embarrassment. "She's _never _liked any of her commanding officers. I must know your secret."

"She's mellowed with age, would be my guess."

Dani gave Marshall a disapproving glare.

Senator Raan bubbled a polite laugh. "I sometimes forget that it was near a dozen years ago that she joined the service. I trust she has been an asset to your crew."

"More than you may ever know."

"Oh, I am already aware that she has revealed her true station to you and your second in command. Hopefully, her assessment of the situation proves to be exaggerated. I, for one, hope for you to have a peaceful stay on Rannoch."

"Then why ask for our geth to make an appearance?"

"To try and put the entire mess behind us, in all honesty." Rylai explained. "We need the majesty of the geth to die... to get the visions of what they are out of our heads. My hope is that once Rannoch sees one, in the flesh... so to speak, that it will stop becoming a fantasy to play out, and instead become a reality we have to accept."

Marshall and Dani shared a silent conversation with their eyes. Their agreement was that the entire line was a load of bull, but that it would be terribly inappropriate to call the senator out on that story with cameras recording every movement and potentially every word spoken.

"So... where is our geth friend?"

"Probably scared to death someone is going to try and put a round through its central processor." Dani groused.

This was then followed by a shriek and a raise in the crowd's collective voice, shrieks along the lines of "there it is" emerging from the cacophony. From closer by, a quarian operative was on his omni-tool, making orders. "Here we go. All units, front and center. You know the drill."

The quarian paramilitary units were in a tight semi circle around the shuttle doors by the time the first geth set foot on Rannoch in a century. The anticipated bum rush from the masses stalled quickly at the sight of weapons very conspicuously displayed from the specialists, only parting to let Senator Raan and Marshall slip past.

"Greeting, Infiltrator Platform 709. I apologize for the discreetness of my first message. I hope you did not consider it untoward."

"I am appreciative of the invitation, Senator." Seven answered diplomatically. "I will admit to apprehension as to how the existence of my kind would be received."

"Most memories of the geth among my people at this point are positive. Hopefully, the negative ones will continue to fade with time..."

"The humans have designated me as 'Seven'. It is suitable for the time being."

"Very well, Seven." Rylai said. "Have you considered choosing a name for yourself?"

The geth looked like it was genuinely lost in thought, a rarity considering how it could process several tomes of information and reach a conclusion quicker than Marshall could bat an eyelash. "It... was not a consideration I had undertaken. My platform designation had always been enough. This will require further contemplation."

"While you contemplate, perhaps you can entertain me and follow my lead? My people are eager to see you."

With a hand on Seven's back, Senator Raan took to the geth's side stride by stride, forward to where a select press delegation had been formed. If a geth could look and feel shell-shocked, no doubt Seven would fit the bill. But it handled the barrage of questions admirably, as far as Marshall was concerned.

"Will the geth return to Rannoch?" had been a noteworthy question, if expected.

"There is much yet to be determined as to our future. It would be my desire to see my fellow geth return to the world that brought us life... if we would be welcome."

"How many are left?"

"That is information that even we are unsure of at this time. There is much data we still have to gather before any conclusive numbers can even determined, much less released for public consumption."

"Are you aware of the The Pulse?"

"We are aware that it, sadly, took the lives of the geth on Rannoch, and much of the fleet that assembled on Earth."

"Do you blame humanity for the loss of your people?"

Marshall's ears perked at the question. The thought honestly had not occurred to him... but there was a bit of sense to ask it. By the account Marshall now understood, Commander Shepard had been the one who broke through the Reaper defense, and armed the Crucible. Humanity was, in a sense, on the hook for the consequences of that action.

"As not even the geth fully understood the ramifications of firing the weapon that ended the Reaper War, it would not be logical to hold humanity accountable for the results of its firing. The geth were prepared to give their all to end the war. That it asked that price of us was not unexpected."

Dani nodded, duly impressed. "The geth plays politics well. I'm a bit surprised. They were not known for such nuances in the past."

"I'm just glad we've dodged a bullet so far." Marshall said, then clapped Dani on the shoulder. "You're home. Go have fun. You've earned it. I'll keep watch on Seven."

He answered the quarian's next question before it even left her mouth. "Yes, Jessie can go too. Hell, you could probably coordinate an outing with the whole group on the first leave. Whatever you all do, don't hang out too late... others will want to stretch their legs, and I'm going to need you sharp tomorrow."


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Smoke had a handful of reservations about the destination that Dani had chosen to take him, Chipper, Jessie, and Mayes. He made one of them clear initially.

"You _do _realize it's not like any of us can drink the stuff they serve." Smoke said.

"Sure you can!" Dani answered. "Alcohol is alcohol. One of the few things that is unaffected by chirality."

"Maybe, but it's still dextro-based. It's probably going to taste like piss."

"It's _alcohol._" Chipper noted. "It _all _tastes like piss. The goal is to be so drunk you don't notice."

"What about Jessie? Dextro-protein sensitivity? Remember?"

"I'll be fine." Jessie answered. "I've been on an anti-histamine regimen since that first incident. I am proud to say that Doctor Coyle has effectively eliminated my reaction to dextro-chirality proteins."

With a sigh, Smoke relented. "Alright, Dani. Lead on."

"Come inside, my human friends!" Dani cheered, stepping through the doors, and into the Biometric Dance Club.

The interior was not quite what Smoke, or any of the humans expected. The environment was clean, the staff was well groomed and tidy, and while the lights were low, visibility was clear and there was very little in the way of noise pollution... outside of the music, the crowd was not the least bit rowdy and seemingly polite.

"Hunh. This was honestly not what came to mind when you told us you were taking us to a dance club." Smoke finally noted after they were addressed by a male greeter, escorted to a clean, linen covered table, and a menu was projected in the center for them to peruse.

Dani blinked, and asked, "What were you expecting?"

"Something a bit more... risque."

Dani looked at her omni-tool. "Oh. Well, _that _much will happen pretty quickly, it's getting to be about that time for the shows to... mature... but dance clubs serve and entertain quarians of _all _ages depending on the time of day or night."

"Really?" Jessie asked in curiosity.

"Oh yes. Dance is a very respected and revered part of quarian culture. During the exile from Rannoch, we really didn't have time or space to create vids or shows or other entertainment. A lot of books... plays... and dance."

Dani then threw up her hand and waved it enthusiastically. "Kal!" She shouted. "Kal! Over here!"

She jumped out of her seat to greet a surprisingly tall and gangly quarian male with a hug as he approached the table. She quickly pulled out the seat to her left for the man to sit down in before reclaiming hers. "This is Kal'Reegar vas Verasi. He was a... classmate of mine during basic training. Kal, this is Smoke, Chipper, Todd, and Jessie."

"I did not think I would see Dani again until we were both old and silver maned... if at all." Kal said. "Thank you for this opportunity."

The other three humans looked expectantly at Smoke; apparently since he was the senior officer present, the onus was on _him _to say something. "Glad to be of help. With any luck, the Iktomi itself will be able to make its return within the year, and everyone will get a unexpected and welcome reunion."

"Here is to hoping!" Kal said with a lopsided smile, bowing his head politely.

The wait staffer returned, asking, "Are you ready for something to drink?"

"Avedas Gold Brandy, oldest you've got." Dani said.

"Same." Kal interjected.

Dani then regarded her human friends. "For them... I'd recommend something mellower... dextro proteins will taste awfully sweet to them. What dry ales do you have?"

"Marcai Pale and Soujenor's Pale."

Dani turned to her friend, "What do you think, Kal?"

"I personally like the Marcai, but the Soujenor's is more popular."

"Marcai it is. Four of them." Dani decided.

Smoke raised a hand in interruption. "Three. I'll just take a water. You can charge me full drink price, if you want."

"That's not necessary, sir." The waiter said with a polite bow. "I will return with your order shortly."

Dani was a bit surprised to see the large-stature human decline. "You're not going to drink _anything_?"

Smoke shook his head. "Hey, I'm a sailor man... I understand how it works. I spent many an evening or shore leave in a bar or tavern getting absolutely shit faced in my earlier days." He looked down at his hands, and continued, "But... once you see what that stuff can do to a person... how it can _change _a person... it really made me lose my own taste for the stuff. It's nothing you all should concern yourself with. Just a personal decision I made."

"Is that why the Iwo Jima is a dry ship?" Mayes asked.

Smoke sighed, "All I can tell you is that the decision to make the Iwo Jima dry came from the top brass, and the Captain and I were not consulted on the matter."

Their drinks arrived, and the humans who actually accepted said drinks found Dani's suspicions to be very true. Quarian alcohol was almost sickeningly sweet on their tongues, but acceptable enough for common courtesy to continue drinking.

"There she is!" Dani suddenly screeched, pointing to the stage directly in front of their table.

A quarian woman stepped onto the stage, her face below her eyes veiled, right red hair the color of fire, skin of caramel, bright red sleeveless top that matched her hair, and a thigh high slit sarong with tassels at the skirt that stopped mid-calf. She bowed deeply in respect to the group in front of her, and still without saying as much of a word straightened.

"Elie'Taya vas Boom Boom." Dani said. "Kal had been showing me videos of her performances for the last three years. I am glad I can see her dance in person."

Smoke looked questioningly at Dani as the dancer began her performance. "The quarians... have a ship... named the Boom Boom?"

Dani shook her head. "No. Of course not. That's just what she calls herself."

"I see. So why does she call herself..." His question was answered when Elie turned around to continue her dance, sashaying side to side. "Oh. That's why." Another pause was followed by the commander's assessment. "That's a... remarkably extensive loadout."

Mayes had another way of putting it. Awestruck, his eyes transfixed on the sight. "You could bounce a credit chip off that ass for five minutes."

"It's like someone shook a gelatin sculpture..." Jessis gaped.

Dani bit her lower lip. "Keelah, I wish I had hips like hers."

Smoke scoffed, "Yeah, because you are _totally_ a flat bottomed girl."

"Compared to most quarians, I am."

"I _like _your butt." Jessie said sheepishly, earning her a peck on the cheek from Dani.

"And _that _is why I like you!" The quarian chirped. "You always know just the right thing to say!"

That got Jessie to blush brightly enough to light the table on its own, not that anyone else noticed because they were drawn to the show, to the point where those on the far end of the table had actually moved their seats to the stage. One of the audience _very _drawn to it... to the point where Chipper had to slap the offending hand as it reached up to the stage.

"No touchy the dancer." The pilot grumbled.

"But..." Mayes said.

"I don't think slipping credits into her waistband is how they tip here. Hell, I'm not even sure if they _use_ credits here."

Elie spun about, winked, then without even breaking her rhythm, used one toe of her left foot to tap a small raised box at the end of the stage. Containing both a scanning strip for cards and a slot for hard currency.

Mayes grinned sheepishly, as Dani called up an interface on the table. "Or... you can do it from here." She said, inserting account information and a sizable amount for said tip. "Don't worry, it's all on me today. You are my guests, I insist!"

Smoke grinned, "We weren't offer..."

She slapped one hand on the table, lips in full snarl. "I... _insist._"

Smoke's grin only broadened, earning him a grumbled, "bosh'tet" from Dani.

Elie nodded politely at the donation, wrapping up her dance with a flourish, bowing deeply again as the nearby tables erupted in applause. Her bow having been turned towards Mayes proved to be no accident, as the dancer drew one finger to his throat, and up to his chin teasingly. She then used that finger to point to a curtained off section that was reserved for private shows. "Five minutes. Be there." Elie purred, almost literally considering how she rolled the 'r' sound.

Smoke nearly burst out in laughter as Mayes looked like he was about to be hit by a car. Wide-eyed, he turned to the rest of the party as Elie left the stage with hips in full sway. "What... what should I do?"

"You... you... _go!_" Dani hissed in disbelief. "This instant, you bosh'tet!"

Smoke had to admit Elie'Taya vas Boom Boom had made a good choice. Mayes was hardly unattractive as humans go, and presumably to the quarian eye as well. Hell, Smoke had no problem admitting Mayes was a _very _handsome man. In fact, on more than one occasion, Smoke had been genuinely peeved that fraternization protocols existed in the Nimea military, and that the ensign was rather _clearly _interested in women.

"Should _I _be trying to make moves on you, Ensign?" Smoke finally asked. It actually felt good to get that admission off his chest, if in a roundabout way.

"Uhhh... no, sir?"

"Then get going. And don't come back until you have done something suitably scandalous."

Mayes had to fight off saluting, instead nervously climbing out his chair and carefully winding through the other tables towards the curtain that Elie had disappeared behind. Smoke called up the night shift on the _Iwo Jima_, and asked them to track and monitor Mayes. "Just to be on the safe side, ya see. Ya never know where trouble could pop up, right?"

"You just want video." Chipper teased.

"Nah." Smoke replied, shaking his head. "Girl on boy ain't my thing."

Dani grinned. "I kinda had that suspicion, bosh'tet."

Jessie however, was surprised. "Really?" She corrected herself quickly, "Not that I think it's a problem, sir... I just never would have guessed."

"Believe it or not... sometimes you can't tell just from looking."

Jessie then nibbled on her lip and twiddled her thumbs in such a cute manner that even Smoke wanted to hug her. Even Kal noticed it, asking, "Is she _always _this adorable? How do you all stand it?"

"Yes." Dani answered, "And we don't, really."

Jessie ignored the banter, instead keeping her attention on Smoke. "So... Commander... does that mean you... and the Captain...?"

Smoke's eyes looked like they wanted to jump clear from their sockets. "Oh, _hell _no. Alice's ghost would come from the great beyond and _kill _me. Besides, he's not the kinda guy I go for. See... I like being the alpha male in a relationship. Captain Brasser is an alpha male pretty much in his default manner. Good friend. _Great_ friend. I'd kill for him... and have. But as a boyfriend? No thanks, and it ain't his thing, either."

Dani finally injected herself into the conversation. Looking at the projection in front of her with the show times. "Well... I think I know something that _will _be 'your thing'..."

"Oh?"

She jerked her head to the stage as a male quarian began to step forward, wearing what looked like a toga, and little else. "Nem'Virral. Very popular dancer. Or so I'm told."

Smoke smiled, "Oh yeah, I do believe this is very much more the thing." He then pointed to the interface, and said, "Ya know, as a favor, could you give a nice big tip like you did for Mayes?"

Dani glowered, her lips twisting into a frown. "That tip was supposed to be from _me_."

Jessie's jaw dropped. "You... what about...?"

Dani rubbed Jessie's shoulder. "Girl, I love ya... you're the sweetest thing in the whole galaxy... but you saw that ass just as much as I did."

"And how is that supposed to make me feel any better?"

Dani clicked her tongue. "Oh, really, Little Miss Faithful? Answer me this then. If Captain Brasser came to our bunk room one night, and asked you to join him in his cabin for some... debriefing... would you tell him no? Even with me in the same room?"

Jessie slouched defensively, like she was afraid she was about to be slapped. Finally, the communications officer sighed in defeat, and grumbled. "Point made."

"Besides, I was going to invite you too!"

That got Jessie's eyes to brighten. "Really?"

Smoke nodded approvingly, "Nice recovery, Lieutenant."

Chipped gently nudged Kal in the shoulder and queried, "So... at the risk of prying, how do you and Miss Dani'Arah here know each other?"

Kal grimaced. "It's..."

Dani sighed. "They're good folk, Kal. You can tell them."

The male quarian's expression and body language visibly eased, even though he clearly still had a hard time answering the question. "Dani and I were... well... there are regulations... although there are exceptions... and... and..."

"I was initially legally bound to carry his children." Dani finally said bluntly.

Empty stares and blinking eyes were the response from the humans. "At the time our exile from Rannoch ended, only about ten million of our species were left. And about one and a half million of them manned the fleet that mustered for Earth. That's not a lot of quarians in a population sense."

Smoke got the gist of where that was going. "So... your leaders instilled a 'get pregnant or else' law."

"It exists to this day, and why our population is nearing one hundred and ten million in just one hundred years." Dani confirmed. "All quarians must have a breeding partner, and have at least three children, although you get monetary bonuses if you have more. I understand the necessity for the law... but I think you can see how it is... bothersome... for a quarian like me."

Kal gained his courage listening to Dani discuss it so openly. "If you do not find a suitable partner by your coming of age, the regional Population Growth Program assigns one to you. I had been assigned to Dani. I was also the one who suggested that she enlist in the military because of it."

Dani then spoke again. "There are exceptions to the law. If you demonstrate medical conditions that present difficult pregnancies, for example. Or... a woman can join the military. Many quarians like me, or who find the law itself distasteful, follow that path."

"It's a decent compromise really." Kal added. "Rannoch gets a steady influx to the militia, and quarians who find heterosexual unions not to their liking find a haven where they can feel like they are contributing to the well-being of their people in a meaningful way. It... works... I would suppose."

Smoke took his eyes off the dancer, and exhaled slowly. "Yeah... believe it or not, We have a similar sort of thing. Not quite to the mandate that Rannoch does, it would seem... but we're also pretty keenly aware about population."

"Oh?" Kal asked.

"Laws in Nimea are more to keep population stable. They're on the books, but haven't needed to be enforced, fortunately, because we're growing at a steady rate. Sedin, on the other hand, has policies that would make Rannoch look tame."

"Sedin? Nimea?" Kal asked. "I thought you were all from Reticuli Prime."

"They are two independent countries within Reticuli Prime, Kal." Dani chided. "I already told you this. Not my fault you didn't listen. Anyway, Commander, please continue." Dani had heard, and read, some details about the two countries, and was very curious to hear more.

"Sedin has population centers... bunkers, more like it... called 'hives.' Each hive focuses on a different specialization, selectively breeding specific traits for a task or profession. For example, one hive might focus on breeding humans with remarkable minds to be theorists or researchers. Others might focus on selecting physical traits to be soldiers. Men who come out of these programs, or demonstrate traits a hive desire, are sent to 'stud' in these hives. Women who meet those same requirements are often _forced _into breeding with these 'studs'. Sedin Elite Paramilitary units have been known to outright _abduct_ women to fill quotas within a hive."

Jessie blinked in disbelief. "I had never heard of this..."

"Sedin keeps it top secret, and Nimea doesn't want to stir that hornet's nest by putting too much political pressure over it. Hell, there's only three reasons _I _know about it."

Dani leaned forward. "And what are those?"

Chipper cut in. "Probably for the same reason I do. Alternatives share information among the different collectives, regardless of what country they exist in. Sedin operatives have been known to infiltrate collectives on Nimean soil to fill their quotas."

"That's one of them, yes." Smoke said. "I was about twelve when Sedin tried to hit my collective. They didn't get terribly far... Nimea Black Ops had apparently been tipped off, and intercepted them. About the only time I can think think that my collective didn't raise a stink about Nimea violating the Alternative Accords. It was one of the reasons I left my collective and enlisted in the Nimea Military."

Jessie spoke like a little girl being told a ghost story around a camp fire. "There... were two other reasons you know about the 'hives', sir?"

"The second reason was my fourth mission as a Black Ops member myself, during the Oceanic War. We got information that one hive was housing the Pinot Stones and using it to decipher Reticulan artifacts that they were then using to "augment" their soldiers. We didn't find the stones... but we definitely found the hive. Turned out it was the same one that the Captain's father had been studded in."

"The Captain's _father_?" Jessie said.

"Which leads to the _third_ reason I know about the Sedin hives. Captain Brasser himself is a product of such a hive. Yeah, your captain was born and raised in Sedin. A Black Ops mission extracted him out of there when he was fourteen, and brought him to Nimea. The Captain doesn't like to talk about it much... not even to me, so I don't know too many details."

"Wow... are all Sedin soldiers like the captain?"

Smoke scoffed. "Thank God no. If Sedin could crank out soldiers like him, there'd be no Nimea. As far as I can gather, the Captain was a part of a top-secret program _within _that top secret program, ran by a member of the Sedin royal family, guy by the name of Heimer. Whatever that man was trying to do, it wasn't something Sedin itself was doing in a large-scale capacity."

Jessie tilted her head in confusion. "Doesn't the Captain have a sister in Nimea?"

"Yeah... a half-sister. They share the same mother, as I understand. The mother was killed trying to defect from Sedin. Her husband and daughter got out."

Smoke sighed sadly. "I really shouldn't be talking about this. As I said before, the Captain is a bit sensitive about his past. He _doesn't _like talking about it... and if he hears you doing so, he's going to know who you heard it from."

"My lips are sealed." Jessie vowed.

Chipper and Dani shared the sentiment. Kal raised his hands, "Your captain will probably never even _meet _me, but I will remain silent all the same."

At that point, Mayes returned to the table, a dazed and stupefied smile on his face.

"I see you enjoyed yourself, Ensign."

Mayes nodded slowly. "I learned that you _can't _bounce a credit off her ass for five minutes... but it's still _very _impressive."

Dani's glower returned, and she crossed her arms grumpily. "I hate you, Todd."


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

In a twisted sort of sense, the longer time passed on Rannoch with no trouble, the more certain Marshall was that trouble was coming. He couldn't explain why... he could just _feel_ it. That foreboding had hovered on the entire motorcade to the Avedas Assembly Hall, and continued to build as they entered the chambers to begin the ceremony.

Senator Raan prepared a speech that only a true politician could make; long and filled with elegant words that said nothing of consequence but seemed like they did. She might as well have recited a genealogy of her family over the last ten thousand years for all it mattered to Marshall.

The senator had recognized Jessie early in the ceremony, and offering a Diplomatic commendation that would carry Jessie's name in its honor (The Michal Diplomacy Shield... which was a very flattering honor), then had promptly spent the next hour talking about the quarians.

He was rather proud of his crew though... because he knew they felt the same way, but stayed true to their discipline and maintained an image of interest. They were indeed a credit to their uniform, from the battlefield to the political arena.

"But this is not the day for us to talk of _our _accomplishments..."

If this was not the day for that, Marshall was terrified how long it would take for Senator Raan to speak about the guests of honor.

"Today is the day we honor new friends, who turned their backs on their own kind to do what was right. Truly, the quarian people could not have been more blessed with better allies. We are humbled in their presence, and honor the example they have set for us."

This was a _really _odd way to display humility...

"For their valor, and the consensus blessing of the Rannoch Senate, the crew of the NMS Iwo Jima shall be presented with the Flotilla Shield of Honor, the highest honor granted by our people, handed down since the Morning War to those that have displayed the will, strength, and courage to ascend beyond what was expected, to go above the standard, and to excel in the face of both."

He kinda wished that he could have gone in full armor... at the very least he could have entertained himself with a vid displayed on his HUD. Of course, at the point he started wishing for a distraction, they finally got to the meat of the ceremony.

"Could our honored guests please stand?" Senator Raan said to the team seated together in front row. As Marshall and his crew complied, she added "When I announce you, please step forward to be recognized."

Marshall's eyes began scanning the surroundings, even though he wasn't able to get a good look at the majority of the seating behind him. He was more interested in the movements of the Rannoch Military units stationed as security, readily identified by their gold and violet suits and openly displayed weapons. They _were _keeping their eyes on the crowd behind Marshall... and if something was about to go down, even if they were in on it, they'd reflect such.

"Commander Ian Takei."

Senator Raan had allowed them to set the order, with some exceptions. Giving Smoke the first honor had actually been the decision of the others, and a rather touching example of the respect that had been forged among the crew.

Smoke followed the senator's instructions, stepping forward to accept the velvet box with a clear cover, he saluted the Senator, then turned to the assembled dignitaries and public onlookers with a polite bow, serving as an example to the proper protocol they had been briefed on before the ceremony.

Marshall could tell Smoke was tickled by the show, the commander breaking a slight hint of a smile as he returned to his place. While Black Ops teams received recognition later in the Oceanic War and after its conclusion by the media and the public, they had never been officially recognized by NMS or the Nimean Parliament for their actions in that conflict. This was a victory of sorts not just for Smoke, but for everyone who silently did what was necessary without ever asking for, or expecting, to be lauded.

"Flight Lieutenant Chipper Dean."

If there was a better validation Chipper could have received for her skills, Marshall didn't know of it. He was definitely proud of her, and now she'd have something on her chest that no other pilot in the Nimea military would likely ever even get the _chance _to claim.

Movement from the upper level caught Marshall's eye; three guards moving along the perimeter towards the rear of the building. _Something _was going down... that sort of obvious movement in masse didn't happen otherwise.

Right now all Marshall wanted was for whatever was brewing to hold off for about three minutes. They could interrupt _his _turn as the center of attention all they wanted. He just prayed they held off for the sake of everyone else.

"Ensign Todd Mayes."

Well, that would score points with Elie'Taya vas Boom Boom... if Marshall remembered the name correctly. Quite a coronation for the kid pretty much fresh out of Flight Academy, assigned to the _Iwo Jima _not just for his qualification scores, but because no other "established" pilot was willing to directly serve under a "cunt". He definitely proved his mettle above Eden Prime. Marshall really could not reinforce _enough _how difficult it was to pull off what Mayes did, even with years of flight experience.

"Liason Officer Khull."

The yahg went through the motions, as well as his bulk could allow. It was hard to peg just what this meant to Khull, as he was an enigma that Marshall was only beginning to decipher. He had definitely proven that yahg weren't inherently violent savages, and was genuinely moved by the plight of the quarian children. How he felt being honored for it? No clue. He didn't _seem _particularly excited, but his body language was _rarely _a good tell.

"Lieutenant Dani'Arah vas Iwo Jima vas Iktomi nar Shalah."

_There _was a mouthful. Heaven help poor Dani if she has to formally introduce herself and had served on three or four more ships in the interim. He rather wondered how that worked, honestly. Did an officer _really _have to announce _every _ship they served on in formal greeting?

Senator Raan had something more to say to Dani. "Lieutenant, when you took the duty of traveling through the dark places of the galaxy to try and find evidence of our people among the stars, I held no delusions that I would _ever _see you, or any member of the Iktomi's crew, again. In fashion true to the belief I held in you, you not only _returned_, you returned with allies, with glory, and with evidence of what we had sent you to find. Yet again, you exceeded your duty, and this time, I will not let politics or family pettiness get in your way."

Dani received the medal with a salute, but before she could turn around to bow to the audience, she was stopped by Senator Raan's hand, and the presentation of two small pips and a pair of silver badge. The senator added one pip to each line of similar pips on the shoulder, and the badges below each line. It was then followed with another name plate that the senator replaced on Dani's chest. "From the depths of my heart, I and Rannoch thank you, _Commander _Dani'Arah vas Iwo Jima."

Marshall allowed a break in customary military protocol, starting a clap of applause, and nodding to his crew acceptance to do the same. The applause filtered through the assembly, and as Dani finally made her bow to the audience, Marshall could clearly see the tears in her eyes, despite the quarian's best efforts to maintain her composure.

Marshall intercepted Dani before she could join the others, gently embracing her and extending his own congratulations as cameras closed in. Perhaps shamefully, Marshall's primary reason for the act was to finally get a good look behind him more than to applaud her promotion. The three guards he had seen had taken position on the lower level near the exit. They _were_ expecting something.

He released Dani, and allowed her to return to her place, bowing respectfully to Raan for the interruption as he returned to his.

"Infiltrator Platform 709."

Sure enough, that name set off a dizzy of media drones and omni-tools. Seven had actually wanted to refuse attending, not so much out of fear of being targeted but as he felt he did not deserve to be there; citing that it had not participated at any juncture in the Eden Prime operation. It had eventually acquiesced when reminded the ceremony was more of a political spectacle than anything, and that it could give the medal to someone else more deserving later.

At the same time Seven was receiving its accolades, another trio of military personnel left their posts, and presumably joined the first three in their new position at the exit. Marshall's focus was now turned towards the seemingly undefended rear of the assembly hall. Fortunately, if something was coming, he'd see it.

"Thank you, for your actions and for the hope you have given that what was lost can be rebuilt." Senator Raan said to the geth before giving it leave.

A public address announcer spoke next, reminding all in attendance to remain seated and to refrain from comments or questions until the press conference at the conclusion of the ceremony. Repeating that message seemed to calm the spectators enough for the show to reach its conclusion.

"Captain Marshall Brasser."

He took his turn at the center of the stage, every sense at full alert. He focused on Senator Raan, as she _could _see what was going on behind him. The slightest indication from her that something wasn't right, and he was ducking for cover, appearances be damned.

He saluted, and with his left hand took the case that was offered. The Flotilla Shield of Honor looked like a miniaturized kite shield, silver in color, bearing an etching of a quarian liveship in a background of stars and fighters in patrol around it, then linked to a violet ribbon with interwoven golden thread and mounted onto a red velvet backing.

Senator Raan's next words were delivered quietly, and meant only for him. "Captain, no matter what you may think of whatever political games are being played here, I am truly and earnestly grateful for what you have done for our people."

That felt like the first unadulterated, honest thing to leave the senator's mouth.

At least he was able to get a good look at the scene behind him as he turned. As he had expected, all six guards were at the primary exit, and had been joined by other, now numbering ten in all. No... that wasn't the _least _bit suspicious.

The anticipation building of what Marshall now _knew _was bad news only built as Senator Raan took _another _half-hour for her closing address. When she finally gave her final statements, and yielded the stage, Marshall was near ready to _welcome _trouble. If politicians were measured on how long they could take to say something, Senator Rylai'Raan was probably the best politician Marshall had ever met.

The public address announcer then declared a ten minute recess, followed by a press conference outside the main entrance to the hall... where all ten guards Marshall had noted earlier quickly departed for.

Dani was quickly swarmed by a small mob of quarians, as well as Jessie. Seven took several steps back, almost onto the stage, where more military units took up position to keep the geth from being stampeded over, sometimes being rather forceful in their efforts to clear the assembly floor. Khull also interposed himself, standing vigil in front of seven, and further dissuading anyone not keen on waiting.

A beckoning wave from Dani caught his attention, and he allowed himself to answer the summons, the crowd around her parting to allow him access. "Captain, allow me to introduce you to my family." She gestured to the two oldest of the group, "This is my father, Nes... and my mother Suri'Arah." Another sweep of her hand indicated three younger people, "And these are my siblings, my sisters Jheri and Oria, and my brother Mir."

"When our darling Dani left us ten years ago, Suri and I assumed it would be the last time either of us would see our eldest daughter." Nes said, grasping Marshall's forearm with both hands. "You and your crew returned her to us. There are no words I can use to describe how thankful we are for this."

Marshall accepted the gratitude with a nervous laugh. "I'm glad I was able to bring this reunion about... if only for a short time." He then shot Dani a sly grin. "Unless she though she was free of my iron fist already."

Dani shook her head. "I still have a duty to my people, and the Iwo Jima is still my best way to complete it. You won't get rid of me _that _easily."

"Our daughter speaks highly of you, Captain." Suri corrected. "Do not let her suggest otherwise."

"That's good, because I think highly of her. She's been a nigh invaluable asset to my crew. We're all fortunate to have her aboard."

The small talk was interrupted by an armed guard literally thrusting his helmeted head into the circle. "Sirs and ladies, I must ask all remaining civilian personnel to make their leave and reconvene outside the spectators' circle."

With that not so subtle prodding, parting wishes from Dani's family were quick, and soon emptied the assembly hall save Marshall's crew, a small cadre of troopers, and Senator Raan. The senator gave little thought to anything other than the geth, almost coldly pushing aside Chipper and stepping around Khull to do so.

"Are you ready to face the public, my friend?" She asked Seven.

"I have been capable of doing so for the last two hours, sixteen minutes, and twenty seven seconds."

Senator Raan offered a welcoming hand that Seven did not take. Not visibly bothered, she withdrew the hand, and said, "Then let's proceed. Do follow me."

The guards took the lead, then Raan and Seven, the others falling into a loose clump taking up the rear. Dani slipped up to Marshall's left, and said quietly, "So, I take it you saw all the guards moving towards the main entrance too?"

"I did."

"Kinda figured that's why you got all touchy and affectionate." The quarian smirked.

Smoke joined the conversation, stepping up to Marshall's right. "Think trouble's brewing?"

"Looks that way." Marshall replied as they moved from the hall to the reception area, the light from outside the building visible through the main doors. "Make sure Jessie, Todd, and Chipper keep some distance. The three of us and Khull will be the front men."

Smoke nodded, and quietly disseminated the information to the rest of the team, returning momentarily to relay, "Khull wants to know why he's always a front man."

"For the same reason you always are." Marshall retorted. When you were as large or larger in stature as Smoke, you rather _became _the front line by default.

Again Smoke drifted back, and again Smoke returned. "Khull says, 'ah', and Chipper says if she dies here, she's gonna kill all of us."

Marshall couldn't help but crack a grin. "Understood."

Finally emerging into the mid-day of Rannoch, the team fell into position per Marshall's orders. His position at the top of the steps, behind Senator Raan and Seven, gave him a good vantage point of the crowd and anything they might be plotting within the swarm.

The captain completely toned out the senator's monologue, not able to imagine that she'd have anything new to say that she hadn't already said in the last two hours. God, that woman could talk for _days _about nothing if given the chance, he was sure.

At that point, Marshall was almost _glad _to catch movement out of the corner of his eye, a single hover car, barreling towards the assembly hall at a very low altitude, and far too fast for it to be the work of an innocent passer bye.

Quickly projecting it's course, Marshall then sprung into action... a fairly reckless action considering he was _not _in full armor, and that even with full barrier, the fireball that erupted when his biotic charge crashed into the vehicle and set off the explosives was enough to completely shatter said barrier and set his dress reds smoldering.

Fortunately, his momentum was redirected by the crash of the charge and bounced him away from the inferno that ascended quickly into the sky. Unfortunately, he struck the road surface head first, the blow dazing him as he tumbled boneless another ten meters.

By that point, chaos had completely erupted, with panicked quarians scrambling and making it even more difficult to identify the forty others mingled within the crowd drawing weapons and preparing to attack.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Dani's head popped out of cover as she saw Marshall finally come to a stop. "Captain!"

Smoke promptly pulled her back behind the column of the assembly hall as the surrounding area was filled with mass accelerated rounds. "Are you insane, woman?" He said, cringing as a shot grazed across his right shoulder.

The column really wasn't big enough for both him _and _Dani, but there wasn't much else readily available. On top of that, because of the panic from the crowd, it was really hard for _any _of them to get a clear shot at their attackers, who unlike them had absolutely no qualms shooting through the crowd.

"But..." The quarian began to protest.

"The captain's taken a lot harder hits than that, and has always come up swingin'. Don't worry about him."

From the next column to their left, Seven announced. "Brasser-Captain is in an open position, with little cover, and likely dazed from impact. I will go provide support."

"Have you not been paying attention to current events, Flashlight?" Smoke snarled. "Those lunatics are kinda trying to kill _you._"

"Unlike the rest of the crew, my shields are not dependent on armor. I am most suited to assist. Furthermore, our attackers are not combat trained. Their stances and weapon grips are haphazard, they are not capable of providing accurate fire consistently. If I remain a moving target with variable velocity, I estimate a mere 1.3% probability that I will sustain even minor damage."

"Well... fuck it, then." Smoke said. "Just... be careful."

"Our attackers pose little threat with proper precaution."

"I wasn't talking about _them_. Be careful with the Captain. He might not have a clear idea of friend or foe, and if he doesn't, he's just as likely to do their job for them."

Seven again had that very unnerving moment of thought that geth normally did not demonstrate. "Understood. I will exercise caution."

The geth sprinted out into the makeshift no man's land, hitting the steps down the hall two at a time, making a sharp left hand turn once reaching the road level and bursting into an abrupt sprint... then realizing it had no need to vary its speed.

The quarian attackers were completely ignoring it, continuing to focus their fire on the people still remaining at the hall's landing.

And that fact was _not _something Smoke missed.

"Okay... why are they still trying to shoot at us?" Smoke asked rhetorically.

Behind him, behind a portable shield generator set up by her military escorts, Senator Raan blanched, and grimaced. Jessie yelped, and said, "Madam Senator, are you hurt?"

For the first time since any of the _Iwo Jima's _crew had seen the senator, she was genuinely without words. "Well... it might be... but..."

Not that one of the mob didn't answer Smoke's question for him. "Keep the pressure up! Kill the humans!"

At least Dani seemed surprised by the sentiment. Her jaw dropped, and she said, "Are you _insane_, you bosh'tets!"

Smoke turned his head accusingly to Senator Raan, who unlike Dani, did not seem the least bit surprised, and in fact, was looking quite guilty. "You _knew _about this?"

"Could we perhaps have this discussion when my people aren't shooting at us?" The senator shot back.

"Fuck this shit." The commander snarled. "Load out, kiddies. They wanna kill us? We'll kill 'em back."

"No!" Senator Raan screeched in horror. "Please! You can't!"

"And why the fuck not?"

"The last thing Rannoch needs to see is humans killing quarians! Especially if they _are _civilians! Let our authorities handle it! Please!"

Military units were indeed starting to mass, on both sides of the assembly hall, for the moment helping to evacuate and clear the area so that their troops could focus fire on the renegades.

Smoke grit his teeth. He did _not _like playing politics, especially when the results of those politics ended with live fire being thrown in his direction. This is how the Day After Affair happened... this is how shit storms start. Even on a _whole different planet_, it was still the same ol' shit.

"Suppressive fire only! Less lethal rounds!" Smoke ordered to the rest of the team, his disgust plain. "Let's keep these bastards busy until the quarians can close in."

Less-lethal was exactly how it sounded; a secondary setting on all matter cannons developed by Nimea military or civilian contractors. It generates a much smaller compression of matter that also reacts less violently when triggered. While certainly less damaging than the standard setting, it could still be fatal under certain circumstances.

After a moment, he then called across the landing to where Khull had taken cover behind a collapsed column, laying prone behind it for as much protection as it could provide. "Khull, you're with me. We'll push forward to that armored vehicle just to our right that those assholes are using for cover."

"Looking to draw their fire towards us, are you?" Khull asked, a hint of displeasure in his tone.

"And hopefully spook them, and push them out into the open where the quarian army can corral them." Smoke confirmed. "Not to mention I think it would provide better cover for the two of us than what we've got."

Khull absorbed that bit of information as several rounds zipped just over the curve of his back. "Good point."

"Dani, try and keep our friends from pushing back too hard. Keep Jessie and the others in one piece. Give us cover fire if you can."

"Consider it done." Dani replied.

"Alright, Khull... let's get this done." Smoke said, breaking cover and at full speed towards his target.

* * *

><p>Marshall's head was still ringing even as he pushed himself up to his hands and knees, his vision swimming in circles in front of eyes. Perhaps oddly, he knew this was this was honestly at this most dangerous. Because as he struggled with consciousness, his instincts were in control... much like a wounded animal.<p>

"Brasser-Captain?" Seven asked, from a distance that could have either been from twenty meters or two. Marshall clamped his eyes shut, desperately trying to find an equilibrium.

By the time he felt the geth's hand on his shoulder, his instincts had already lashed out, sweeping Seven's legs completely out, rolling into a side mount, right hand charging with biotic energy for a smash that would no doubt have terminated anything in its path.

"Brasser-Captain!"

It was only experience that prevented disaster, Marshall having made an educated guess as to how events were going to play out, shifted his weight just enough for Seven to scramble away as Marshall spun onto his back and release the gathered energy in a burst that quickly dissipated into the air.

Again, he clenched his eyes, trying to sort the scrambled mess in his brain. "Damn it... Seven... if you had... any idea... how close..."

"I apologize, Brasser-Captain, but this is not a safe location." The geth answered, going into that dangerous breach to help Marshall to his feet. "There are three hostile quarians that have turned their attention this way, and from ambient discussion, it would appear that you are their target."

They found temporary cover in the wreckage of the vehicle Marshall had deflected and indirectly detonated. Through that tangled and smoldering mess, the two were able to overhear the orders being made by their pursuers.

"The captain is a highly skilled biotic, and extremely dangerous even if unarmed. Contain him and wait for support." One of them declared, pointing the other two to circle around the vehicle to create exactly that.

"And _how _exactly would they know _that_?" Marshall grumbled to himself. That little charge he performed earlier should not have left that much of an impression.

"It is a safe presumption to assume they have been briefed as to the capabilities of the Iwo Jima's crew, presumably tapping the same information Senator Raan acquired from now Commander Dani'Arah."

"Right... of course."

Smoke's voice cut through to Marshall's comm. "Ghost, you still alive?"

"Perhaps unfortunately." The captain replied.

"Senator Raan wants you to lay low and let their military handle this. Something about humans killing quarian civilians being a bad idea."

Marshall wasn't the least bit surprised, considering the pieces coming together in his head. "That's fine. I want them alive anyway, so that I can rip their minds apart and get to the bottom of this."

Smoke's sigh was audible. "Of course you do... but if that's your plan, you're gonna want to think of something quick. The military is getting ready to move in, and from the looks of things, mercy is not on their mind. You don't start rolling a tank in if you're looking to apprehend people. I think Senator Raan is trying to cut her losses and just end this episode of 'As Rannoch Turns'."

Marshall set his jaw in frustration. Of course Admiral Gerrel was looking to cover his tracks, and for what? No admiral would think that a cadre of civilians would be able to actually succeed at something like this. The entire point was just to make Senator Raan look bad, and with mission accomplished, it was time to clean up.

Jessie cut in. "Sir, if I can get the right angle, I believe I can disarm the three that are hunting you."

"Come again, Lieutenant?"

"Their weapons are quite large, and they are not experts holding them. I do believe, if you can help get me the right line of sight, I can literally shoot their guns out of their hands and do little harm. From there, I can't imagine you'd have a hard time disabling them, right?"

In truth, Marshall and Seven could probably disable their attackers without assistance, but doing so with just his biotic barrier for protection _could _be troublesome. He also knew Jessie was a crack shot, if her quals were any indication. Could it work? Hell... why not?

"Alright, Jessie... what do you need from me?"

* * *

><p>Jessie spied her ideal location in question, a gazebo to the west of the assembly hall, low to the ground and surrounded by dry desert grasses that flanked the stone structure. It seemed ideal, and would give her the best line she could hope for.<p>

The problem was going to be getting there. The commander and Khull had pushed forward, and had done what they sought to do; the quarian attackers holding that point almost immediately bugged out when they saw the massive human and the even more massive yahg charging their position. Unfortunately, doing so had put them in less than ideal position to provide her cover.

"Chipper, Ensign Mayes... I need you to cover me." Jessie said, the scope of her sidearm popping into place, then checking to make sure it was properly aligned.

Chipper, not surprisingly, was skeptical of the request. "Are you _insane_? What do you think you're going to do?"

Jessie pointed blindly towards her destination. "Getting to that gazebo. I need you to provide cover fire, and before the quarian military moves in. Dani alone won't be enough."

"Have you forgotten why we're _back here_, and not _up there_?"

"And you are also an officer within the Nimea military!" Jessie finally snapped. "Pilot or not. I'm just a comm officer, but I'll be damned if I don't try my best to execute my captain's orders. You can complain about how much it's not in your job description all you want, but you better damn well do it anyway!"

Chipper recoiled as if Jessie had slapped her. But after that harangue, there was no way Chipper was going to back down. Checking the charge on her sidearm, she said, "Alright, Mayes. Let's give this girl what she needs. Dani would kill us both if something happened to her."

Their shots were intentionally high, with no target selected, and thus spitting what amounted to largely harmless bursts of air just above the heads of the crowd. It did the trick nonetheless, panicking armed and unarmed alike, scattering them and giving Jessie time to reach her chosen location.

She dove into cover, even as the action probably wasn't necessary, skinning her knees and ripping her skirt up to the waistband in the process. The uniform tech was going to _love _her tomorrow. But that was something she had to push aside... there was work to do.

She peeked over the edge of her cover to assess her targets. While she _did _have a clearer angle, they still had their backs largely turned to her. They had shifted their position slightly in the time it took for her to get to this spot.

A hook of doubt grabbed her mind. Precision shooting in a simulation, even with moving targets, wasn't the same as live fire. Could she even _do _this? Was it even _possible_? Wouldn't it be better to leave this to the much more experienced captain to handle?

Jessie clenched her teeth and shook her head. _This _was her chance to prove she was worth one tenth of one shit. That all the people who said she was too small and too weak and couldn't cut it were _wrong_. That it's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog... as her grandpa-pa would say.

She wasn't going to be the runt of the family anymore.

"Captain, if you can, I need you to turn them south, towards my location at the gazebo."

Just as she made that transmission, a surge in the gunfire at the assembly hall, along with the roar of a cannon. The Rannoch military was making their move, which meant Jessie probably was only going to get one chance, and had to make it count.

"Copy that, Lieutenant." Marshall answered. "Here we go. Be ready."

"Ready, sir."

Marshall rolled out of cover, to the south, then followed up with a biotic Nova, which not only successfully turned the three quarians towards Jessie's position, but also staggered them, putting their weapons in an even more unprotected position as their arms flailed to maintain balance.

She wasn't going to get a better opening. With practiced eye, she zoomed in and fired, then repeated the process twice more... three shots, three seconds.

The first shot struck her target in the hand. Even with the less lethal setting, it no doubt broke bones and ripped tendons, but it did the job. The quarian screamed, dropping his pistol and falling to his knees in pain.

The second struck square on the barrel of the next attacker's pistol. The torque from the impact wrenched the woman's thumb in what could not have been a natural direction, but spun the pistol out of her hand nonetheless.

The third, another male, froze like an animal in the headlights of a speeding vehicle. As a result, Jessie's shot actually missed... but only because the man's weapon fell from his limp hands as he went catatonic from surprise.

* * *

><p>Marshall did the rest. Using their distraction to close the distance, he dropped the first quarian, still nursing his broken hand, with a rear kick to the temple, dropping him to the road before he even knew he was out. The second took a shoulder throw, and was dissuaded from further movement when Seven followed, sidearm in hand and trained on her.<p>

The third didn't even try to put up a fight, dropping to a supplicating posture, head down and capable of kissing the road, repeatedly begging for forgiveness and his life.

"Well, if you want to live, I suggest you stay right where you are, and don't move." Marshall warned, looking up at the rapidly charging soldiers of the quarian military, a ten-man team at that; the captain quickly extending his biotic barrier to deflect weapons fire in case any of them got any ideas.

The team pulled up short, albeit nervously. They no doubt had orders to make sure no one among the attackers made it out alive, but they also weren't sure they wanted to try and go through Marshall to do it.

This was a very dangerous situation, because Marshall was still a bit scrambled in the head to begin with, and not exactly equipped for a fight. If they decided to try and go through him, they'd probably be successful.

They took the diplomatic approach first. "Captain Brasser... please step aside." The squad leader said, lowering his rifle halfway while the rest remained fully ready.

Marshall shook his head. "I don't think I will. These three are disarmed and no longer a threat. You can stand down."

If humans killing quarians was a bad idea, there was equal unease at the idea of quarian military killing humans. Marshall could see the squad leader blinking nervously through his helmet, then finally turning to the comm. "Admiral, please advise."

A minute of deathly silence followed, until finally the team leader held up a steadying hand. "We are to stand down. Fall back and form a defensive perimeter. You two... help the captain keep these three in line until proper authorities arrive."

Senator Raan then imposed herself into the fray, stepping between Marshall and the quarian troops, and turning his direction. "Captain... my Special Forces are on their way, and will be here soon. They will take these three into custody."

Marshall nodded solemnly. It was the best he could ask for really... as much as he wanted to interrogate them himself, they were quarian civilians on the quarian homeworld. This was rather out of his jurisdiction.

The senator then leaned into his ear, and whispered, "Thank you, Captain. You very well may have salvaged something out of this after all."

Marshall's glare was scathing. "Oh, we have... but I'm fairly certain we're thinking about two totally different things."


	32. Chapter 32

_Author's Note: Whew... finally wrapping up the Rannoch side trip. I think I've done a decent enough job setting the stage, and giving this collection of characters enough build up. Yes... this has **all **pretty much been one **really **long preamble, believe it or not._

_I do believe it's time for our intrepid crew to really get to the main story. Wouldn't you all agree. One last chapter on Rannoch (this one here), and then it's on to where Mass Effect 3 started and ended (for good or for ill)..._

**Chapter 32**

Marshall was already in a bad mood by the time Senator Raan summoned him to her official chambers at the Avedas Capitol Building. The _Iwo Jima _had already been moored a day longer than he wanted it to while Rannoch authorities gathered witness statements and evidence from himself and his crew... and now that manipulating she-bitch actually had the gall to request to speak with him in person.

On top of that, he had spent the last half-hour arguing with High Command... and while he eventually got his way on the most pertinent matter, it still was irritating to have to play politics with his own military superiors.

He was _really _getting tired of playing politics.

His every escort got that silent message, not even _trying _to talk to him outside of a very awkward greeting, then promptly keeping as much distance as possible until they could hand him off to his next escort and get somewhere much further away.

The senator's receptionist saw Marshall appear in the landing of the chambers, and he literally tried to disappear into his chair. Apparently, Marshall was _really _giving off some 'leave me the fuck alone' vibes.

"Senator? Captain Brasser has arrived. Shall I have him wait?" The receptionist asked, eyes dancing nervously between the panel on his desk, and the brooding human mere meters away. "Yes, madam. I'll send him in right away." Finally, to Marshall, he said, "She does not wish to waste your time, Captain. You may enter."

Marshall scoffed. "_That _would be a first." Nonetheless, he passed the receptionist desk, paused momentarily at the door dividing the landing from the office long enough for it to slide open and step through.

Rylai Raan's office was a stark contrast to normal quarian architecture. Where quarians seemed to like smooth surfaces with inlaid lights, angled lines and even colors, Senator Raan had a very distinctly... human sense of style. Instead of tile flooring, she had burgundy carpeting. Where there were normally fabricated walls with running lights, her office had treated wood panels and desk lamps.

"I see you finished getting debriefed by your High Command?"

Marshall gave a closer look to what turned out to be a replica of the Mona Lisa, most notably because the fingers on the characters hand were rather misshapen, like the artist didn't quite now exactly how human fingers were supposed to look. The entire piece looked like a very crude, hastily slapped together work that the artist hoped no one would notice. "They somehow got the idea that I was five seconds from chasing after Admiral Gerrel myself."

"You seemed quite angry at the resolution of the attack. I felt like having your superiors step in wouldn't be a bad idea." With a steadying pause, the senator added, "It's going to take some time, but I do believe that once my people have peeled away all the layers of deceit that we'll find Admiral Gerrel at the heart of the mess."

When Marshall didn't have a response, Raan continued, "I won't lie; it's not going to be easy. Preliminary interrogation of the survivors revealed none of them had any real contact with the source of their information. What few names we did find had no official ties with anyone military, much less Admiral Gerrel specifically."

She paused only to breathe. "On top of that, Admiral Gerrel has considerable support in the senate, and nothing but a carefully built and prepared case will bring him down. However, that the attackers possessed information about you and your crew that they could have only gotten from a handful of sources, and I'm sure we'll get him eventually. I'm glad you understand that we have to do this a certain way."

"And I'm glad I could be of assistance." Marshall said with a hint of coldness.

She noticed Marshall's appraisal of her office, and said, "I'm sure much of the décor is either inaccurate or slightly flawed. I was going off of very spare information that my people had gathered."

The senator leaned back in her chair. "I've always had an interest in humanity, ever since I was a little girl, you see. My grandmother, Shala, was rather fascinated with them after her meetings with Commander Shepard, that fascination was passed down to me."

"I've learned that others among your kind don't exactly share that fascination."

"No." Senator Raan admitted. "There is a small sect among my people that passed down memories of Cerberus attacking the Flotilla... or carry a grudge that Commander Shepard 'forced' us into a peace with the geth... or... blame him for their destruction. _That _sentiment went from mere conspiracy theory to a legitimate source of violent ire once we learned that the Crucible was responsible for The Pulse."

Marshall finally met eyes with the senator. She was not _nearly _as confident as she liked to project, now evident as she quickly turned her head away from him. "And... you decided to _neglect _mentioning this to me and my crew... why?"

Shamefully, the senator admitted, "Because... I _really _needed your presence to lure Admiral Gerrel into rash action. I was afraid informing you of that potential hostility would... scare you off."

Marshall finally allowed himself to become genuinely angry in his tone. "For the record, it would _not _have. Not that you ever gave us the chance to prove it. But I _could _have been able to work with you. Instead, I put some important members of my crew, who had little combat experience, in harm's way of quarians who wanted _them _dead!"

He then approached Raan's desk, slamming his palms down on the surface, and leaning in almost into the auditory channel on the side of the senator's head as she turned her head further from him. "The _next _time you want to use me, or my crew, for one of your little political games; I cordially invite you to bend over, pucker up, and kiss my ass."

"Now I really understand why Commander Dani'Arah likes you." Senator Raan whispered. "She's never been a particularly big supporter of 'political games' either. She sees a patron saint in you, I suspect."

"Or maybe it has something to do with me not being the sort of person who will throw her on a rickety clank of a junk ship on a doomed mission because having her around is no longer politically convenient."

"Do you think I _wanted _to do that? Do you think it was my _desire _to watch the girl that I hand-picked for my most elite unit because she had all the damned promise in the galaxy leave this planet for at best fifty plus years or never to return at all?" Raan snarled, finally meeting Marshall's eye. "You think that decision was _easy_?"

"No, I don't." Marshall replied. "And that's your problem, Senator. It _should _have been easy."

He straightened, then added, "And for the record, my ultimatum about my crew? That _includes _your newest Commander."

Deciding he had said all that needed to be said, he turned to leave. Senator Raan then stopped him with one last question.

"So, you consider Dani to be your crew now?"

Marshall didn't even turn to face the senator. His one word answer was emphatic. "Absolutely."

The captain left Senator Raan's office, a relieved smile on her face as the door again slid shut. The senator was glad that Dani had managed to find the support that Raan could not give her. "Good." She whispered to the air.

* * *

><p>As much as he didn't want to judge Rannoch and the quarians by the example the extremes of their society had set... that didn't mean Marshall wasn't more than happy to lift off and leave this planet far back in his memories.<p>

When the vehicle pulled to a stop in front of the _Iwo Jima_, Marshall left with nothing more than a cursory parting to his last escort, eyes fixed on the open ramp leading to his ship... and the single figure waiting at the bottom of that ramp.

Dani's appearance in many ways reflected much how she had first arrived on the _Iwo Jima_, a duffel almost too big for her on her shoulder, helmet tucked under her arm, and looking _nothing _like the highly trained specialist he now knew she was. Her eyes were glistening with barely restrained tears, her lip trembling as he approached.

Before Marshall could even get a word in, Dani had near erupted, her voice fighting back sobs. "Captain... I... I have been made aware that your High Command no longer wishes my presence on your ship. I... understand why. I can un... understand if you feel I have... betrayed your trust. That was not my intent. I... am sorry that the information... I had been reporting... was used to put you and your crew in danger."

Marshall again tried to speak, but still couldn't get a word in edgewise.

"There is no need to chide me." Dani said, shaking her head rapidly. "I am ashamed that it was information I had gathered that led to this. I... I... would understand if you hate me right now, Captain. I can... accept your scorn, even if I feel it would be unfair. You must think about your... your crew... first and foremost."

"I will... treasure... the time I had on the Iwo Jima. Hopefully, one day, some day, you will be able to think the same about me. Goodbye, Captain... may the journey be kind, and the tribulations few."

At that point, Dani finally let the tears fall, morosely stepping around Marshall and away from the ship. Finally, Marshall had the silence to speak.

His eyes narrowed crossly, then he asked, "And where do you think you're going, Commander?"

Dani stopped, turned, eyes blinking in confusion as she nervously stammered, "Ummm... h... home?"

Marshall clenched his eyes, and rubbed his forehead. He had been aware that quarians were known to be a fairly... emotional people, but he was getting tired, he wanted to get back to his mission, and he _really _didn't need this. "I spent a half-hour earlier today arguing and snarling with High Command to make sure you _stayed _on this ship, and now you think I'm just going to let you walk off?"

Dani was dumbfounded. "Captain? You... you..."

Marshall jerked a thumb to the ramp. "Turn your ass around, get on board, and get to your post. Leave your shit with Lieutenant Valanov for now, and you can unpack once we're back in orbit and you've plotted a course. _Now_... Commander."

Dani actually dropped her helmet absentmindedly as she saluted, her smile nearly as bright as her eyes. She then squeaked, bent over to pick up her helmet, only to have her duffel slide off her shoulder in the process and smack her heavily on her thigh and knock her shotgun off it's mounting on her hip, sending the weapon clattering onto the ground.

Growling a curse through grit teeth, Dani dropped the bag entirely, retrieve her shotgun, remount it, then pick up her helmet, and finally pick up the duffel bag and sling it back over her shoulder. Then, as if worried any further delays would cause Marshall to change his mind, she dashed towards and up the ramp towards the _Iwo Jima_, Tolstoy's vibrant cheer drifting outside seconds later.

Marshall had followed the navigator's antics, and cracked his first smile for what he would swear was the first time that day... a smile that quickly vanished when another, unfamiliar quarian voice drifted from behind him.

"Captain Brasser, I assume?"

The source of the voice was a barrel chested, well built sample of a quarian, flanked by two armored and armed soldiers on each side, nearly as tall as Marshall, with ink black hair drawn and oiled back. His violet uniform more resembled chain mail with the number of medals and insignias pinned to his chest and shoulders. An open mouthed, mocking smile was pulled across his face, and his arms were crossed haughtily.

"You assume correctly." Marshall answered. "I'd ask who you are, but I suspect I already know, and you're no doubt going to tell me anyway."

The quarian nodded. "Admiral Rhen'Gerrel. I apologize for not being present at the commendation ceremony. My intelligence had uncovered some troubling information that proved to be in reference to the unfortunate attack on your crew... and I felt I was needed more on base than at the hall."

"Fortunate." Marshall said ambiguously.

Rhen's face remained drawn in what Marshall could only interpret as taunting. "It is _truly _disappointing that Senator Raan did not make you aware of the element of our people that detest humanity. You'd almost think she was _plotting something_. It would have been such a _shame _if something truly _tragic _had happened to you or your crew..."

Marshall had enough of the admiral's thinly veiled mocking. Ignoring Rhen's escorts raising their weapons in warning, Marshall closed the distance quickly, drawing himself to his full height and only stopping when he was less than meter from the Admiral's face.

Marshall wasted little effort with subtlety. "I'm not sure how. I'm not sure why. I'm not sure when or where. But one day, you are going to cross the line, Admiral... and your Senate isn't going to protect you, and my High Command isn't going to call me off."

Rhen's smile vanished, replaced with a cold stare. "Is that a _threat_, Captain?"

Marshall turned about, now more eager than ever to get the hell off this planet. "I'm sure you're a smart man, Admiral. Figure it out on your own."


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

The thing that bothered him the most wasn't the restraints that held him to the chair. He had been held down before. It wasn't even the fact he was thirsty, his tormentor had routinely kept him without water before many of his sessions.

What bothered him was the fact that he was dreadfully cold, a consequence of whatever cocktail had been injected into his bloodstream moments before. His torturer had said something about needing to suppress his biological functions in order for the gene therapy about to be administered to work properly.

The older man tapped a needle, watching the translucent amber liquid slosh and mix within the chamber. "Do you know who Shepard was?" The man asked. "No... of course you don't. You haven't been taught much of anything, have you?"

He stayed silent. He learned months ago that when Heimer asked questions that an answer was not expected.

"Shepard was a paragon of humanity. He was a shining example of what our species could be. An inspiration. A hero, a legend, a leader... strong in mind and body, adept in biotics and raw combat. Pure chance had brought humanity one step closer to their ultimate destiny, as the height of civilization in the galaxy."

Heimer, and his cocktail filled injector, drew closer. "But the next step, I refuse to leave to chance. _You _will be that next step, boy; the manifestation of our genetic destiny. _You _will be the harbinger of humankind's future."

* * *

><p>The beeping from Marshall's comm jolted the captain awake. He wiped the sweat off his brow with his left hand while activating his omni-tool with his right. "Brasser."<p>

"Captain, you requested we wake you once we reached our destination." Tolstoy said. The Armory Chief was the man currently on off-shift command duty on the bridge, which would explain him being the one to make the call.

"Alright. Let me shower up and I'll relieve you in fifteen." Marshall replied. "Once relieved, you will be dismissed to get some sleep." Tolstoy would have been awake close to twenty-three hours at that point, even if not a huge danger, it was still not an optimal length to go without rest.

"Nonsense!" Tolstoy declined. "This is the big moment! I'm not gonna be in dream land during it!"

"Understood, Lieutenant." Marshall then switched his comm to patch to the ship's general channel. "Attention all hands, this is your captain. All crew members are to report to their stations in thirty minutes. I repeat, all crew members are to report to their stations in thirty minutes. Captain Brasser out."

Marshall pulled off his undershirt, lost in his thoughts as the washroom door slid open. He caught his reflection in the mirror and froze, recalling his nightmare from earlier.

Genetic perfection... genetic destiny... those were words Heimer had loved uttering. The next step... a glorious union of past knowledge and present ingenuity... those were others. Pursuing and surpassing a legend... yeah, Heimer had _really _loved that one.

Well, Marshall was hardly perfect, genetically or otherwise; and one didn't have to look particularly hard to see it.

Marshall honestly hadn't been surprised to have that particular memory bubble to the surface. In fact, he had expected it earlier, after Dani had invoked Commander Shepard's name on Rannoch. Shepard was a haunting specter in Marshall's life, and it's not like Heimer had been the only one to try and make the comparison.

How the _hell _the Nimea media even thought they knew much of _anything _about his early career, much less Shepard's, to make the comparison was bothersome. Yet they did nonetheless... how Marshall's leadership and experience and heroism in the Oceanic War was _every bit the equal _of Shepard's early exploits.

And no doubt one of Jonas's selling points when the "retired" admiral had nominated Marshall for the _Iwo Jima_ post was to send "their version of Shepard" to follow in the footsteps of the legend as well. Damn near every step of Marshall's life had been forced into that shadow, and to say it irritated him was putting it mildly.

Hell, the only reason the _Iwo Jima _wasn't actually named the _Normandy _had been due to a bureaucratic mix-up between NMRD, NMS, and the Nimea Parliament. By the time it was discovered, it was determined to not be worth the cost to change the detailing.

He forced himself away from the mirror, and into the shower, imagining the water running down his body was taking away all those absurd expectations and inane comparisons with them. Marshall was his own person, he did things his own way. If there _were _any similarities, he rather felt bad for Shepard.

After the shower, he slid into his duty reds, checked his omni-tool one more time, issued a message to High Command that they were approaching the Arcturus Stream, where they would hopefully be able to get some clear signals from the Local Cluster.

Truth being, a great deal of the mystery was already gone. They now knew that the allied forces had survived the Reaper War, and that they were largely victorious. The big question that now remained was exactly who survived... and what were they doing.

High Command had determined that Eden Prime likely was not working alone in their schemes; as the facilities that had been found were simply not large enough to explain the degree of advancement within them. The possibility that Earth was fueling that machine was significant enough to warrant extreme caution.

So they had taken position beyond Arcturus's Oort Cloud, stealth systems engaged, and well out of the way to observe the activity within it, and early returns suggested there was quite a bit of it. Low frequency scans demonstrated hundreds of ships in the system, of several different makes and designs, but very little specific data.

As the primary bridge crew filtered in, Tolstoy returned to the armory, and Mayes slid over to give Chipper the primary helm. Jessie took right to analyzing incoming data and with the help of the Ensign Keefe (who was still proudly wearing the Flotilla Shield of Honor that Seven had given him two days ago), was determining exactly where and what was reaching their ears.

Jessie's eyes widened. "This particular comm buoy is handling ten thousand, six hundred and twenty six independent channels. Seven, think you can help me filter them and sort them out?"

From the life support area, the geth complied. "Acknowledged, pending permission to access your station remotely."

"Permission granted, Seven." Marshall interjected. He tried to keep the crossness out of his voice, because the geth was merely complying with the stipulations of its presence on the ship.

Within minutes, Jessie made preliminary findings. "Well... there's definitely a cornucopia of transmissions here. We're picking up human, turian, asari, salarian, krogan..." Jessie then looked up, where Dani was eagerly sitting on the edge of her seat, then said, "And yes... even some quarian."

The navigator nearly jumped out of her seat as Marshall grabbed Jessie's attention. "Any transmissions of note?"

"Still sorting by relevance." Jessie explained. "If there's any cahoots going on with Eden Prime, there's no current chatter about it. With your permission, I'd like to try and dig deeper into their communications, possibly link into their entire network and databases."

It was definitely a risky proposition, especially as they were _trying _to stay undetected at the moment. But Marshall had already suspected they'd likely have to go to such lengths to find anything that would be considered useful. "Proceed, Lieutenant."

A tense silence fell on the bridge as Jessie and Seven began their data dive. The longer and farther they went into the information network, the greater chance the presence of an unidentified ship in said network would be discovered. Which depending on what was going on within the Local Cluster could be a very bad thing.

"Well, there's been no communication with Eden Prime in the last five years at least... although there could be some form of top secret transmission buoy or QEC that we do not have access to." Jessie announced after several minutes.

"What about our scans of the system, Ensign Keefe?" Marshall asked.

"The majority of the ships are _not _military in design or loadout. There are only twenty-six fully armed military grade vessels within the system. The majority of the activity appears to be focused around the system's mass relay." Keefe answered.

"Chatter suggests they have been attempting to repair it with varying degrees of success for some time." Jessie added. "Context suggests this effort has literally been for decades. Meanwhile, Seven and I have managed to work back through datamined communication archives in their network for the last ten years. There are _no _communications either to or from Eden Prime in that interim."

"Don't go any further, Lieutenant. If you were going to find something, you would have found it by now. Let's not push our luck. Thank you for your assistance, Seven."

"Your appreciation is acknowledged. I was glad to be of assistance, Brasser-Captain."

Marshall tapped his fingers together, thinking. He really didn't want to get bit by another Stepford Society trap. "We have our protocol in place if this all goes sideways?"

Smoke nodded. "Indeed we do. I don't like it, but we have it."

Smoke was of course referring to that he was to remain on the _Iwo Jima _at all times during any diplomatic missions, and if one of any number of situations were reached, he was to turn about and head straight back to Reticuli Prime regardless of who he left behind. While Smoke was used to tactical retreats, he did _not _like running away, and he was not keen of throwing Marshall to the wolves if he had to.

They had gone down that road once before, and it hadn't ended well.

"Alright then. Time to stick our hand in another potential hornet's nest." Marshall decided. "Chipper, drop stealth systems. Smoke, make sure weapons and barriers are on standby. Jessie, officially link with their communication network on an open channel, and send a ping."

Confirmation and compliance followed... and a reaction from the Arcturus Stream was not surprisingly swift. "We have an automated response from the comm buoy, that our identification does not match the information they have on our ship." She smirked, "Apparently, the allied forces had or have an Iwo Jima of their own."

"Four military class cruisers have altered course and are heading to our position, ETA three minutes." Keefe added. "With a more detailed scan of their ships, I can tell you they are all equipped with magnetic-hydrodynamic weapons systems and cyclonic barrier defensive grids."

Marshall nodded. "Well, if Eden Prime and Earth _are _working together, clearly they aren't sharing military tech." The sort of armament the ships approaching the _Iwo Jima _were cutting edge just before the Reaper War, no doubt drastically improved over the last hundred years, and far more effective than the standard systems seen on Eden Prime. One on one, the _Iwo Jima _would be able to more than give as good as it got, but four such opponents would definitely be more than they could handle.

There wouldn't be any hit and run tactics on _this _venture, and the look Smoke and Marshall shared told each other they knew it too. "LC, put the core on standby. Be ready to bring it back online at a moment's notice."

"Aye aye, sir." Came the response from engineering.

"Sir... one of those ships is quarian in design!" Dani exclaimed.

"Yes, ma'am." Keefe confirmed. "One ship bears resemblance to quarian design, two turian, and one human."

"All channels open." Marshall ordered. "Let's try and play this friendly first."

As the envoy slowed and eventually came to a stop, one of those ships connected to one of the open channels, the holgraphic image of a balding man in formal Alliance Uniform, complete with captain's bars.

"Unidentified vessel, this is Captain Coates of the SSV Chicago. I wish to inform you that the Iwo Jima designation has been out of service for twenty-three years, so I suggest you find a different ship to try and imitate... provided you live to see another day."

Marshall grit his teeth. He normally did not respond well to threats, but decorum was vital in these initial exchanges. "SSV Chicago, this is Captain Brasser of the NMS Iwo Jima. It _is _our proper designation, as this ship and its crew does not originate with the Systems Alliance. We originate from Reticuli Prime, a former Systems Alliance colony world."

There was silence for a few moments. "Try again. There is no record of any Reticuli Prime in any former or current System Alliance planets."

"We were a top secret research and development colony." Marshall explained. "As a result, it probably doesn't register in any formal query. Do you have anyone who would have access to any classified materials from the period before the Reaper War?"

"I appreciate you dedication to your cover, 'Captain', but if you think I am going to waste any more time trying to identify a colony that does not exist, you might as well power down and just let me slag your ship right now and save everyone the trouble. You're not the first pirate trying to sneak into Council space... you won't be the last."

"If we were pirates, you'd think we'd try a little harder than red detailing that would obviously stand out." Marshall retorted. "Query someone who would have access to classified details."

"If we did that for every pirated ship that claimed they were a part of some long forgotten colony, we'd never stop." Captain Coates answered. "And I grow tired of this game. Power down and prepare to be boarded. You are all under arrest under the authority of the Citadel Security Search and Seizure Code."

Marshall's teeth were now grinding together near audibly, but any retort he was about to make was cut off by Dani. "Captain Coates, give us one moment to confer. I do believe we can provide information that would confirm our identity."

The alliance captain was surprised by the voice, his attention turning towards the helm. He blinked repeatedly. "And who may you be?"

"Commander Dani'Arah vas Iwo Jima. Do allow us this moment."

Captain Coates's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he relented. "Very well. You have five minutes."

Marshall addressed Dani once the transmission was put on hold. "Care to explain what you're doing, Commander?"

"Open a channel to the quarian cruiser, and let me do the talking, sir." Dani said, standing up from her station.

Marshall nodded to Jessie to comply, then momentarily yielded the captain's chair. "It's all yours, Dani. Presuming they answer."

The quarians _did _answer, somewhat to Marshall's surprise... the opaque visor of a suited quarian appearing on the display. A masculine voice sounded initially dismissive. "You have a lot of nerve to try and contact..." The voice then turned awestruck as he processed Dani's presence. "Keelah... you... you're..."

"Commander Dani'Arah vas Iwo Jima vas Iktomi nar Rannoch." Dani said.

"You're... open? Unsuited?" The quarian asked.

"Rannoch has been kind to us. I am sorry, but I do not have your name..."

"Captain Van'Mal vas Rayya." he answered. "What trickery is this? You... cannot possibly have come from the homeworld!"

"It would be quite a stroke of luck for me to remove my suit in advance in the off chance we'd come across a quarian vessel to try and regale them with tales of the homeworld, don't you think?"

"You... no... it can't be... but..."

"I am who I say I am. I am from where I say I am from. These people are also being truthful. We have come a long way to learn the fate of Earth, and of my people who left a hundred years ago." She couldn't stop a faint glistening of tears. "When we found the survivors of the Tonbay... on Eden Prime... I had started to lose hope that the fleet had survived..."

"The _Tonbay_?" Captain Van'Mal said. "What do you know of that ship?"

"As I said... it had been commandeered by the people of Eden Prime, and it's population held prisoner for purposes we still are uncertain of."

The quarian captain turned away from the display. "Lieutenant Vasque, contact the quarian councilor. Ask him about the Tonbay and if Eden Prime was on its projected flight path. Be quick about it... inform his office that it is of the utmost urgency." Turning back to Dani, he said, "If we can confirm your story, it would go a long way to support your claims. Only the highest ranking officials among the fleet know exactly where the Tonbay was supposed to go."

"The survivors suggested that others were supposed to follow, but we heard nothing of their fate." Dani said.

Captain Mal nodded. "We _were_, yes. But when we lost contact with the Tonbay, future departures were cancelled and ships that had begun the journey themselves were called back. We couldn't afford the risk after the flagship vanished so quickly."

"And no one sought to learn themselves?" Dani questioned angrily.

The captain shrugged. "This was many decades ago. The only details I am aware of was that after the Tonbay vanished, the fleet leaders decided that our efforts would be best served helping the rest of the allied forces rebuild the mass relay network and other alternative transportation methods. Eden Prime is still a two year trip one way even with our current technology. An investigation would have been cost and resource prohibitive."

The captain's attention was then drawn away, to return after several seconds of silence. "Well... Commander... the councilor has confirmed your story. I assume you need us to try and placate Captain Coates to be more cooperative in confirming the rest?"

"That would be most helpful, Captain, yes."

Van'Mal gave a slight nod. "I shall do what I can. Rayya out."

Dani surrendered the captain's chair back to Marshall once the communication ended

Another minute of silence was followed by Captain Coates reappearing on the display. "I'm not sure what the hell you did to convince our quarian friends, but so be it. Stay right where you are and don't try anything funny. It's going to take a few minutes to get the folks with proper clearance to dig through old records, and we'll be watching you."

"Understood, Captain." Marshall replied, trying not to sound too smug as the communication again terminated.

When Captain Coates again appeared, he did _not _look happy, but it was more of a sulk rather than anger. "Captain Brasser, I have been informed that my initial impressions were mistaken, and I am to apologize for my behavior. Councilor Hackett wishes to extend his greetings, and that we have been expecting you for a long time. You are to fall into formation, and we will escort you to the Sol System."

Marshall looked at Smoke triumphantly. "What do you think, Commander? Should we show off a little?"

Smoke returned the grin. "After the reception we received? Absolutely."

Marshall then regarded Dani. "Can we get a solid ping from any Sol buoys, Dani?"

The navigator scoffed. "It's not a matter of _can_, it's a matter of which one do you want me to _use_."

"Select one on the edges of the system, and plot us a good distance away to avoid any traffic."

"Aye aye, sir."

Captain Coates suspicion returned. "What are you planning, Captain Brasser?"

This time, Marshall didn't resist the urge to grin smugly at his colleague. "Why don't you tell your Councilor that we'll be outside Sol in about thirty-three minutes?"


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

Okay... perhaps needling directly to the Sol System (even it's outer boundaries) without telling anyone exactly how or where they were going to actually _do _it was a little mean.

So Marshall wasn't exactly surprised when there were seven ships, one of them a dreadnought class, on high alert by the time the _Iwo Jima _appeared through the gravity well on their side of the needle, with sixteen more en route.

Said ships quickly stood down once identification and confirmation of the _Iwo Jima _was made. "Our apologies, Iwo Jima, for the potentially unfriendly greeting." The Admiral at the head of the dreadnought had said. "We rather suspected that when a gravitational anomaly had formed shortly after Captain Coates delivered your last message that you were responsible... but it never hurts to be sure."

The allied forces were being _really _nice now. "No offense taken, Admiral Davis." Marshall answered. "You have to protect your interests until you're certain there's no threat."

"Thank you for your understanding, Captain." The admiral said. "So, will you accept our escort now? The council is rather... eager to speak with you."

"If it's all the same, we'd rather leave our ship here. I will take a shuttle and meet your council." Marshall explained. "We were nearly snake bit on Eden Prime, and just like you, we have to protect our interests."

"Understood, Captain." Admiral Davis agreed. He was _determined _to be cooperative, a complete mirror of Captain Coates. "I will have my ships fall back to fifteen thousand kilos from your position to give your ship some space."

"Much appreciated, Admiral." Marshall said in parting. "I'm heading to my shuttle now, and will launch in ten minutes. Captain Brasser, out."

He had thrown out ten minutes because he figured it would take at least two to attempt to cajole Chipper into taking the shuttle helm on her own accord, before finally having to settle with making it an order.

Instead, the pilot had jumped right out of her seat, yielded it to Ensign Mayes, and took swift strides to the elevator, without even the slightest hint of protest... not even any semblance of aggrieved body language.

Chipper paused at the elevator, looking back at him, a silent question in her eyes because Marshall had not moved from where he had been standing, dumbfounded at the course of events that had played out in front of him.

Jolting back to business, Marshall surrendered the bridge to Smoke, and circled around to the elevator, courteously letting Chipper enter first before following her in. Once the doors closed, he asked, "Okay; who are you and what did you do with my pilot?"

Chipper played coy. "What do you mean?"

"The Chipper _I _know would have balked at the idea of piloting through unknown space surrounded by potentially hostile ships."

"The Chipper you know has now flown through unknown space surrounded by _known _hostile ships and anti-aircraft guns." Chipper retorted, as if insulted. "On top of that, being brow-beat by Fluffy, Destroyer of Worlds on Rannoch kinda reminded me that there is a level of professionalism expected of me as an officer of the Nimea Military."

"Fluffy, Destroyer of Worlds?" Marshall asked in amusement.

"Jess... I mean... Lieutenant Michal." Chipper explained. "I'd never have thought a comm officer would have a fearless streak a kilo wide, but there ya go. I dunno... I guess if Jessie can suck it up and do what has to be done, no matter how scary it feels; then so can I, right?"

"This scares you?"

Chipper stared up at Marshall crossly. "Flying in a barely armed shuttle through a system that may have been the source of the Eden Prime fiasco surrounded by ships several magnitudes superior than what we found on Eden Prime? Let me think about that... yes."

Marshall chuckled. _That _was more the Chipper he knew.

* * *

><p>Once they actually got into the shuttle, and began their trip, Chipper didn't regret the decision one bit. Getting to see living history play out was its own reward, even if it ended in a fireball after being shot down.<p>

The pilot had been recording and streaming the visuals they were getting, and sending them to the _Iwo Jima_, with the intent that the recordings would be sent on to Reticuli Prime. "Damn, to think I'm the one that is sending the first images of Earth home in over a century. That's pretty heavy, ya know?"

She nearly gaped at the next sight to fill her vision. "Is that... the _Citadel_?"

The image that filled the shuttle's viewscreen was indeed the famed core of galactic civilization that had been a staple of the allied forces of the galaxy. It had certainly seen better days, with signs of considerable damage despite what looked like a heavy effort to repair it.

"The Reapers moved the Citadel to Sol in order to protect it from the allies using the Crucible. Don't tell me you've forgotten Seven's report on the last days of the war already."

Chipper bit her lip. "I didn't forget! I... never read it in the first place."

Marshall sighed in comical dismay.

"Hey! Systems Alliance History is _your _thing, not mine."

"And what _is _your thing then, Flight Lieutenant?"

"Baseball."

"Ah. Who is the all time home run leader?"

"Which league?"

"How about Earth?"

"Which league?"

Marshall tapped his chin. "How about their major leagues?"

"Henry Aaron for Earth's Major League baseball."

"Really? I thought it was someone else..."

Chipper shook her head. "Was at one time Barry Bonds until his records were officially vacated for steroid use."

"Remember when steroids were this terrible specter that we all had to be scared of?"

"Yeah. Kinda went by the wayside when medical advances realized that they could be used as part of gene therapies to correct genetic flaws that would lead to premature death."

Marshall grinned. "Gee, Lieutenant... sounds like Systems Alliance History _is _your thing after all!"

Chipper rolled her eyes. "Yes, Professor. Have any more homework for me?"

"Not at the moment." He said, pointing at the console. "We seem to have an incoming transmission."

Chipper jerked in her seat. "Fuck!" She said, opening the channel. "This is Yukon Shuttle."

"Yukon Shuttle, this is Anderson Memorial Airfield. You should be receiving entry instructions to your console now. Upon landing, you will be escorted to London. Will just your captain be attending?"

"Yes, Anderson Memorial. I didn't see any reason to bring anyone else at this time. Flight Lieutenant Dean will return to our ship once she has dropped me."

"Copy that, Yukon Shuttle. We shall see you shortly."

Communication went silent. Chipper addressed her captain, saying, "And we're sure about this? You want to go it alone?"

Marshall nodded. "Better this way. If all of our fears are true, I don't want anyone else in the crossfire. If you think anything is even the slightest bit sideways, you and the Iwo Jima get the hell out of here, and back to Reticuli Prime as fast as the Needlepoint Drive can take you."

"Yes sir." Chipper answered, Marshall more than a little surprised to hear the reluctance in her voice. But this was for the best... if the worst came to pass, Marshall was determined to bear the brunt of the consequences this time.

* * *

><p>Marshall hadn't even fully stepped off the Yukon before the human councilor was on top of him, taking Marshall's hand in a greeting shake. "Councilor Miles Hackett. It's an honor and a pleasure to meet you, Captain Brasser."<p>

Hackett looked surprisingly young for a man, especially since a lot of the medical technology that prolonged human life halfway into the second century was harder to come by on Earth after the Reaper War. His hair was still dark black and thick, with few wrinkles or worry lines testing his features, although his eyes and movements betrayed a greater age than first glance would suspect.

"Likewise." Marshall answered, more than slightly put off by Hackett's very eager approach.

"Well, let's not keep my fellows waiting. They're already chomping at the bit to see what all the fuss is about." The councilor said, putting a hand on Marshall's back, and guiding him to the series of vehicles that would transport and escort them to their destination as Chipper slowly lifted the Yukon upward for its return to the _Iwo Jima_.

Hackett apparently noticed Marshall's scrutiny once they had both settled in for the short trip from the airfield to London proper. "Is something wrong, Captain?"

"You don't look old or wizened enough to be a major leader of humanity." Marshall said honestly. "Just trying to peg how old you really are without blatantly asking."

"Fifty-seven." Hackett answered. "I _am _fairly new to the political arena, and cashed in some political capital from my name to get here earlier than I probably would have... so I haven't had the stress and pressure yet to turn me into a gray, half-bald, shriveled slab of humanity like my great-grandfather."

Hackett nodded his head. "I actually learned of your planet from his records, in fact. He was not the _least _bit happy when Shepard used the MEMO to short out the Reticuli Relay, but accepted Commander Shepard's reasoning. But I guess it worked out for the best, didn't it? No Reapers... no fallout from the Crucible... you just all kinda settled into your own little pocket of calm in the storm and waited it out, huh?"

"Something like that." Marshall said distractedly, as the city of London appeared through the windows of the vehicle.

London looked much as he expected from a city that had been effectively razed a hundred years before. There were pockets of development, clearly of modern manufacture, surrounding by large swaths of destruction and ill repair. The city was recovering, albeit slowly, due to the simple fact of limited resources and a lot of other places on Earth and beyond in as bad or worse shape.

Hackett sighed as Marshall took in the sight. "We could have had London completely back on its feet by now... hell, all of Earth, if we weren't devoting so much materials, manpower, and money into rebuilding the Citadel."

"You think that's a mistake?" Marshall asked curiously.

Hackett shrugged, and shook his head. "Not really. I get that the Citadel is a huge symbol of galactic cooperation. I understand that its repair is a large part of what keeps all these damn diverse species all one one task and not fighting amongst each other about what is most important to restore first."

"But..." Marshall prompted, sensing there was more.

"But damned if I know why." Hackett looked out of the window towards the sky. "That thing was the central core of the Reapers' entire damn cycle. Why the hell are we trying to preserve it?"

"Symbolism is a funny thing." Marshall replied, "What is a deplorable death trap for you invokes memories of a better time for someone else."

"Yeah well, when the Asari and the Krogan left with the majority of their manpower for their respective homeworlds, they didn't exactly leave more than a token representative group behind that was enough to pull their weight. At least the other races still here do their part while they are here..."

Hackett shook his head, as if clearing the thoughts forming from his head. "It's... been a _long _century, Captain."

Marshall dropped his head in sympathy. "I can imagine."

"I'll tell you what, though, your appearance really has got people of all species in quite the upswing. It really meant a lot to everyone to learn that the sacrifices of their forefathers actually wound up _meaning _something."

"How so?"

"To see that someone... out there... wasn't ripped a new one by the Reaper War or it's aftermath. All that hell and sacrifice... all that blood, sweat, toil, and tears... to preserve _something_... to protect _something_... and they see, a hundred years later, that it actually paid off. To see humans, living without being surrounded by desolation. The quarians are ecstatic to hear that their kin on Rannoch live freely without environmental suits. It makes everyone feel good to hear those sort of stories."

And to think Reticuli Prime spent a good many years of that blessed time killing each other. Seeing Earth had a way of making the conflicts on his home planet seem petty and trivial in comparison, even as logically he knew they were anything but.

"You know, a little communication at some point could have helped get you that good news sooner." Marshall said, even as he had recently discovered why that had been impossible.

Hackett laughed, if bitterly. "We'll remember next time to have a contingency plan other than the QEC array on Ontarom. Hell, at this point, there's probably three people on this whole damn planet that remembered that your planet even _existed _until you popped up outside Arcturus. You're rather lucky that I was awake when a message reached the Citadel Council that there were some 'nutjobs' claiming to be from Reticuli Prime."

The return trip from Rannoch to the _Iwo Jima's _return to their original mission plan had brought them by the Kepler Verge, and a sidetrack to said communications hub. The managled remains of the QEC center, along with the damage to the mass relay system, had told the whole tale to explain the communications blackout. Reticuli Prime's only link to Earth, due to their top secret status, had been that QEC array, and anyone who would have known how to contact the planet through conventional means would have quickly learned that those buoys used the Mass Relays to send data between clusters.

"I think they also see you all as the first real hope in decades that any of them will see their homeworlds again."

"Is that so? Why would they think that?"

"Because even if they don't know where Reticuli Prime is... they know it can't be anywhere nearby. And you sure as hell don't look like a man who has been sailing the ocean black for years upon years. Well, and that little spectacle you made of moving from Arcturus to Sol in a little over a half hour kinda got everyone's attention."

Marshall nodded in agreement, but chose his next words with care. "That was one of our stated mission goals. If survivors of the Reaper War were found, we were to offer our assistance as much as possible... within reason."

Any retort Hackett might have made was cut off as their vehicle pulled to a stop to enter the Council grounds. It was a short trip from the front gate to where they were unloaded, in front of a sleek white building bearing the holographic insignia that Marshall recognized as similar to the old Citadel Council, with a marker labeled, "Dignitary Entrance" just below.

"Well, Captain..." Councilor Hackett said. "Are you ready? The Council is very eager to meet you."

While Marshall's concerns that Earth and Eden Prime were in cahoots were rapidly vanishing, he had this sinking feeling that this diplomatic visit wasn't going to end on the most perfect of terms either. "I'll bet they are..." He said cryptically, taking stride behind the Councilor as the doors to the inside parted for their entry.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

Onlookers from the adjoining rooms were quickly escorted away by armed guards, clearing the hall for Hackett and Marshall to the main chamber. Their escorts stopped at the main doors, and held Marshall back momentarily as Hackett was allowed entry. "Proper procedure, Captain. I hope you don't mind."

Marshall nodded in acceptance, the human councilor stepping inside, and declaring their arrival. "Ladies and gentlemen of the council, I am proud to introduce Captain Marshall Brasser of the Iwo Jima from Reticuli Prime."

At that point, the guards allowed Marshall entry into the chamber, stepping forward as Hackett took his position with his fellow councilors.

The Council were seated in a lower level box in the spacious and otherwise empty chamber, five of them presumably representing the major races of the galaxy. Hackett sat at the center of the group, with an asari to his left and a turian to his right. A quarian man on the far left and a krogan on the far right finished the group.

The asari spoke first, nodding in deference to Hackett. "We greet you, Captain, and I apologize in advance if our eagerness to get to business shows far too quickly for proper decorum. However, since we have you at a disadvantage, I would like to introduce ourselves before we proceed further."

Another respectful nod to the human councilor, and the asari added, "As you have already met and been introduced to Councilor Hackett, I will begin. I am Councilor Sha'ira, representing the asari and Thessia."

The turian spoke next. "Councilor Mirai Honoris, representing the turians and Palaven."

Councilor Sha'ira cut in with a conspiratorial tease, "She has perhaps been the most eager of us all to meet you."

Marshall forced himself not to react visibly. She? Marshall had remembered Old Alliance chatter wondering just what female turians looked like... apparently that answer was, not distinctly different from their males. He found the idea of a turian female listening to human discuss it, then playing along with the ruse... leaving the humans none the wiser that they had in fact met the very thing they had been talking about.

Hell, it's what he would do in that situation.

The quarian spoke up next, perhaps more to interrupt a potential squabble (as Councilor Honoris had genuinely looked aggrieved by the asari councilor's remark) as to get the introductions over with. "Councilor Kris'Vael vas Ulnay Two, representing the quarians and Rannoch."

"I'd recommend having a talk with Senator Rylai'Raan before continuing to make _that _particular claim." Marshall noted. Somehow, he suspected the leader of Rannoch would have considerable protest.

Councilor Vael winced slightly at the rejoinder, wringing his hands. "Yes... and when communications with the homeworld are reestablished, I suspect I will... have that talk."

"Councilor Urdnot Rhaze, representing the Krogans and Tuchanka." The krogan said, gruffly and with a disapproving glance across the box. He was an older krogan, if Marshall remembered his history right, either a current or former shaman judging from the krogan's dress and markings on his crest. "Now that we're done with the meet and greet, can we get to the business that you pyjaks have been whining about since this man's ship popped up?"

Sha'ira asked Hackett, "May I, Councilor? Or do you wish to brief one of your species?"

Hackett extended a deferring hand in Marshall's direction. "Be my guest. You've seen the whole century play out in front of you. You'd know how it's been as well as anyone."

"Thank you, councilor." Sha'ira said with a pleasant smile. That smile vanished the moment she began to relay her tale to Marshall.

"As I'm sure you have both seen, and heard from my esteemed colleague... the state of the Sol System isn't the best, and in fact, we are fast reaching a critical point in terms of sustaining the various populations with the limited resources we have. While the majority of asari and krogan returned to our respective homeworlds... for other races, it's not quite as feasible. The Salarians for example, would spend nearly a quarter of their lives in transit to their homeworld."

"And as I am sure your quarian crew member would acknowledge, a trip to Rannoch would be filled with peril." Councilor Vael noted. "In addition, it has been several major feats in liveship nutrition science to keep us and the turians fed... but we're at our limit."

"Many non-essential personnel among my people have volunteered themselves to survival rations since last year, and those numbers are only going to get worse." Councilor Honoris explained. "Support from Palaven takes ten years, and is extremely limited in what they can provide."

"The Salarians have been struggling to sustain a population to begin with, as even in best of times, the ratio between males and females is nine to one." Sha'ira said. "They have coped as well as they can, but with so few females, they can't continue like this for much more than a handful of generations. A return to Sur'Kesh is crucial."

"And then we have the volus, who can neither eat the food or breath the air." The asari councilor added. "They've been on the verge of extinction for nearly five decades. If through nothing but sheer tenacity, they've held on... but they need to at least find a planet that can support them if Irune is beyond their grasp. Sadly, none have been found in this cluster."

"Your appearance at this time, Captain, could not have been more welcome or more fortuitous. Had you arrived even a decade later... any aid you or your planet could offer would have been far too late for far too many."

If the near absurd level of cooperativeness hadn't already been a clue as to what this entire meeting was about, and common sense had abandoned him long before he had been invited to London, the sob story being told by the Council would have made it painfully clear. Now the only question was were they going to play nice, or were they going to play stupid.

Marshall sighed. He wanted to be cordial, but it seemed silly since the course of the meeting was pretty obvious. He had tried to form a question, but his tired tone of voice probably came across as a bit dismissive. "Which is where my ship's Needlepoint Drive comes in."

"Hah! I like this human!" Rhaze said with a short laugh. "Right to the point. If only the rest of you would follow his example."

Sha'ira was the only one who didn't rise to the krogan's bait, the other councilors staring him down with disapproval. "I do apologize if our desires seem painfully transparent. I assume it is safe to assume that the average function of this new FTL is similar to what you demonstrated in your trip from Arcturus to Sol?"

"No, in fact. The efficiency of the drive increases the longer the journey. Thirty-seven light years, like from Arcturus to Sol, takes about thirty minutes, only about six spent in actual travel. But from here to Eden Prime is a little over two hours. Much of the performance discrepancy is because the drive doesn't discriminate based on distance. The gravity wells it forms are the same size, require the same amount of energy, and thus the same amount of time to form them, no matter how long the programmed trip is."

"Is there a limit to the size of ship that can use this drive?" Council Vael asked.

Marshall shook his head. "Not in theory, although the only practical application of the drive has been a frigate. Nimea is planning to activate a dreadnought and three cruisers within a month's time, and I understand Rannoch is about to launch their first Needlepoint vessel in about that same time frame. Lieutenant Commander Toole is our chief engineer, and he'd likely have a much better idea as to the requirements for larger vessels."

"Do all ships need to have such a drive installed, or can ships use the gravity well formed by another?" The quarian pressed.

"Again, in theory, yes, multiple vessels could use the same needle. I know the _Iwo Jima _specifically is programmed with fail safes that close the well when we enter and exit because, again, it's not like we've had the means to do all that much testing with multiple craft, and there's any number of unforeseen variables involved."

"We could use this technology not just for returning to our homeworlds, but to advance the timetable on repairing the mass relays." Councilor Honoris said.

"Would that even be necessary? Sounds like this 'Needlepoint Drive' is sufficient in and of itself." Councilor Vael countered.

"Needle travel is considerably slower than the Mass Relays, for the record, especially if we're talking about major trade routes between core worlds." Marshall noted. "Not to mention Mass Relays can handle heavy travel loads that may prove difficult with the Needlepoint Drive."

"But it could be used in conjunction..." Honoris mused. "We could focus on rebuilding the primary relays and use the needle technology to serve the role that the secondary and tertiary relays did in the past. We could cut the projected resources in half or more."

Hackett finally injected himself into the discussion. "How about we settle what tomorrow will bring before we worry about next week?" Then, addressing Marshall, the human councilor said, "To get straight to the point, as our krogan colleague so prefers, when can this council expect schematics and technical assistance pertaining to this drive system?"

Sha'ira, to her credit, cringed at Hackett's expectations, and even said, "Councilor Hackett... I don't think it quite works that way."

Marshall ran a hand through his hair. So they were going to play stupid. Oh well, he _was_ an educator by trade. "When you negotiate for them, just like Rannoch did."

Hackett looked appalled by the very idea. "Negotiate? May I remind you, Captain Brasser, that Reticuli Prime is a colony world of the Systems Alliance, and bound to the authority of its leadership, namely myself and this council."

Marshall's eyes narrowed, and his voice matched his stern expression, "One hundred years is a long time to expect a colony to return on bent knee. I am not Alliance. I am Nimean. I am beholden to the Nimea Military Services and its governing Parliament, not to you or anyone on this council. You hold absolutely _no _authority over me or anyone on Reticuli Prime, and to presume you do is an insult."

Hackett jumped to his feet. "Insult? I should hold you in contempt of the Council!"

"Then do so. And when the Iwo Jima does not receive the signal it is expecting from me, it will leave this system presuming me a prisoner of war or killed in action. At which point, your next visitors from Reticuli Prime will be warships."

Sha'ira had been such a pleasant personality that it was surprising to see her abruptly become visibly cross. "Councilor Hackett, the only one who should be held in contempt here is _you_." She snapped, startling the human councilor with the accusation. "I will _not _have you ruining what could be the best and final chance for the preservation of all species currently within this cluster. Am I clear?"

She then addressed Marshall, "Captain, I understand your desire to maintain loyalty to your homeworld, but please, let us not speak of war. Even now, a century past, war is not something I, or anyone in this system, wants to entertain. I humbly apologize for my colleague's outburst, and ask that we do not let it interfere with our business. To whom should we begin such negotiations, and what should we expect to pay?"

The asari was quite deft at managing egos, Marshall observed. He'd have to stay on his guard around her. "I can transfer connection identification with several heads of state on Nimea at your earliest convenience. As for what they would ask for... it's hard to say. I understand they did not ask a hefty price from Rannoch, a political alliance and some of their own technological advancements. What they would ask of you, though... no offense madam councilor, but they're politicians. I won't even _begin_ to fathom a guess."

Sha'ira's laugh was of genuine amusement despite it's politeness. "No offense taken, Captain. If only politics wasn't such a necessary evil."

Marshall had just finished transferring the contact information in question to the council, and explaining that they'd be able to use the _Iwo Jima's _QEC to contact the parliamentary body, when an incoming emergency transmission interrupted the process.

Smoke was on the other end, concerned. "What's your status, Ghost? You okay over there?"

"For the most part." Marshall grumbled. "Just explaining the nature of independence to a member of the Council."

Smoke exhaled in relief. "That's good. We just had a small group of quarians try to make an... uninvited visit to the Iwo Jima, and we were worried that it was part and parcel of a larger operation. Ya know, kinda like an Eden Prime revisited sort of thing."

Marshall clenched his fists, then opened the channel on his omni-tool to open broadcast. "Could you repeat what you just said to the class?"

In mild confusion, Smoke complied. To Marshall's relief, the entire council was immediately aghast. Councilor Vael, in fact, was legitimately outraged. "I want a ship designation! I want names! I will have the fleet investigated immediately, any information you can provide will be most useful, Captain."

Marshall nodded in confirmation, and Sha'ira called the meeting to a close. "I suspect you are needed on your ship, Captain. We will open communication with your leaders, and I will contact you personally when there is something to announce."

Marshall didn't salute, instead spinning about quickly, and on his comm again. "Alright, Chipper, I think I'm done here. Make it quick."

* * *

><p>Smoke was waiting for him at the shuttle bay... oddly amused rather than perturbed. Marshall noticed this, saying, "You're in a good mood."<p>

"Because you're just in time for the show. We think we found out who was responsible for the infiltration attempt, and Dani wanted the first go at 'em. Could be hilarious."

Marshall and Chipper followed Smoke into the elevator. "You have a very peculiar idea of 'hilarious', sir." Chipper noted.

Smoke was dismissive. "Bah. That attempt had less than zero chance of success. I mean, sure, it was clever and all... but six quarians trying to seize a military vessel? Come on."

"What exactly happened?" Marshall demanded. He'd decide the humor in it when he had all the details.

"Well, they came in a stealth-enabled shuttle and launched from a ship that had been coming in from Centauri. They tried to access our ship through the escape pods on Deck Three, pretty much settling into a blind spot from visual detection. They even managed to disable the alerts in the pod clusters that would tell us that one bay had been forced open. They ejected the pod, and tried to move in."

Smoke chortled. "Of course, outside of the fact that because they came in a shuttle, and thus had a very small party, another problem was that they didn't anticipate dear ol' Seven. Our geth friend _instantly _identified the discrepancy in mass, and had calculated where that discrepancy came from about that same instant. It alerted us, and reported to the scene."

"Now _this _is where it gets funny. Turns out our party crashers kinda were working on the assumption that the geth are, ya know, extinct and all that. So when Seven stuck its little flashlight head around the corner, it outright spooked the shit out of them. They couldn't scramble back into their shuttle and break dock fast enough. Guess they figured any ship that had things that shouldn't be walking around inside it was a ship they didn't want to fuck with."

That _did _manage to make Marshall crack a smile. "Any damage?"

Smoke shook his head. "Nah. We were able to reacquire the jettisoned pod easily enough, it might have some scratches to the paint job, but our guests did some clean work. Nothing of note, at the very least."

The elevator door opened onto the bridge, and Smoke chirped. "Oh good! The show isn't over yet!"

Dani was in the captain's chair, addressing the projection of a suited quarian who even Marshall could tell was a little nervous just from body language. Dani's harangue had obviously been rather disconcerting.

And the quarian commander was not done, holding up one finger for emphasis. "I swear upon the homeworld, if you _ever_ try that again... I will put a single hole in your visor, and _watch you die from exposure_!"

The quarian attempted a measure of a defense, though Dani was in no mood to entertain it. "Ma'am... you must understand..."

"I understand that this is the _second _time my people have performed an act of aggression towards this ship and her crew. I will _not _suffer a third!"

Now _that _part was funny, Marshall decided. "I think I'll let Dani handle the informal rebuke. Smoke, make sure that you alert all other ships that this will not be tolerated again, and any ship violating the established halo by Admiral Davis _will _be treated as a hostile vessel until further notice. I'm sure High Command is going to love this report..."


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

"Captain? Sir?"

Marshall turned towards the sound of the voice. "What is it, Jessie?"

"A Councilor Sha'ira wishes to speak with you."

Marshall nodded, expecting said communication since he had parted ways with the Council two days ago. "Patch her through, Lieutenant."

Jessie bit her lip. "Sir... she actually wishes to dock... and speak with you in person. She reports that she is on the asari dreadnought Destiny Manifest, waiting for permission to approach."

"She can't speak over the comm, can she?" Marshall grumbled rhetorically.

"Apparently not, sir." Jessie responded, not realizing that wasn't a question Marshall was looking for an answer to.

Marshall took a deep, steadying breath. It wasn't hard to figure out the asari councilor was playing a psychological game... trying to get him more comfortable by meeting him on his "home turf", as the saying goes. She also no doubt correctly figured that Marshall wouldn't be a total ass and turn her away.

That didn't mean he was going to make it _easy_, however.

"She comes alone. I will have no armed council officers on my ship." He stipulated. He doubted it would dissuade her, but he wanted to make it clear that the incursion was not forgotten.

Jessie relayed the message, and replied, "She agrees, sir."

"Very well. Let her know that her shuttle has clearance to proceed." Marshall said. "Chipper, I don't care if her shuttle is still attached to us, if _any _other ship makes a blatant move to breach the halo, you break off and get us the hell out of here."

"Aye aye, sir." The pilot answered.

Marshall stood, and said. "I suppose I better get changed. Let the councilor know that I will meet her shortly."

Jessie again relayed the message, minus the part about getting changed, then said, "She says that there's no need to change to formal uniform. You can meet her as you are."

Marshall frowned, wondering if this councilor ever tired of pithy mind games. "Of course. Very well then, I'll meet her at the airlock. Smoke, you have the bridge."

* * *

><p>As promised, Councilor Sha'ira emerged from the airlock alone. If she considered the lavender full length dress she was wearing "casual", Marshall wasn't sure he wanted to know what asari considered "formal wear."<p>

"Should my pilot remained docked, or can she return to the Destiny Manifest?" She asked with a very disarming smile.

"Whichever you prefer." Marshall said indifferently.

Sha'ira then sent away her shuttle, saying to Marshall, "I certainly don't think you're going to take me hostage."

"I'm flattered by your high opinion of me." The captain deadpanned.

"Are you always so guarded?" She asked with a hint of tease.

"Only around politicians."

Sha'ira exhaled patiently. "And exactly why I wanted to come in person, outside of official channels. I wanted this meeting to be a bit more informal."

"Is that so?" Marshall said, beckoning her to follow him towards the conference room.

As the asari took step to his right, she added, "Indeed. I am _not _a politician by trade, Captain, nor did I particularly want to be one. But when Councilor Tevos resigned to return to Thessia, I became the popular choice to replace her. I prefer to provide more... personal counsel. I prefer genuine decency over the sterile politeness that is required in a political arena. I believe I am capable in my role, but I do not feel its how my talents are best used."

Marshall gave nothing but a dismissive hum to the statement. He stepped into the conference room first, then as Sha'ira followed said, "Are you here to tell me your life story, then?"

Sha'ira was determined to meet Marshall's snark with equal amounts of patient grace. "No, of course not. I came here to thank you for your understanding in what must have been trying events three days ago. It's a shame that we were neverable to find out who was responsible."

Her words intentionally betrayed her correct assumption that the _Iwo Jima _had indeed discovered the perpetrators, and for the sake of good relations, had decided not to press the issue. "I am also glad that you seem to understand the desperation that is steadily growing within this system, and are not holding it against us."

"Contrary to what Councilor Hackett might think, I am _not _trying to maliciously withhold vitally helpful technology from the species moored here. But it's not my place to hand it out to whoever asks for it... especially from a man who presumes and assumes fealty due to a century old treaty."

Sha'ira leaned back against the table. "And I bet if you were to really press for an honest answer from the councilor, he'd admit that. He is new to his role... and feels he needs to assert that he is the highest representative of humanity. He certainly didn't offer any protests to the negotiation process once he had been initially chided, and he did claim to extend apologies for his behavior as well."

"He did." Marshall confirmed. "They were received. I didn't exactly feel any urge to pursue the discourse further than that."

"I feel silly, apologizing for grown men. So I won't any further." Sha'ira said with a smooth giggle. "At any rate, I suppose I should get to the real reason I am here. Councilor Rhaze says it's my greatest failing, that I will spend five minutes to say something that could be said in five seconds."

"Yes, I'm sure you're a busy woman."

"Not _nearly _as busy as I wish I was." She said, the innuendo distressingly clear. Sensing Marshall's distaste, she teased, "Oh, come now, we're both adults."

"Can we just get to business?"

Sha'ira laughed at Marshall's discomfort. "Very well. I came to inform you that a preliminary agreement has been reached between the Council and the Nimean Parliament. There's still a few minor details to work out, which is why a formal announcement has yet to be made, but it's all elementary at this point. In fact, Nimea Research and Development have already released what sort of hardware requirements we will need, in the hopes that we can have many of the parts ready when the actual schematics are sent."

"I'm glad." Marshall replied, letting his guarded exterior drop to extend those sentiments. "How much did my leaders fleece you for?"

"Very little, in terms of physical resources; for which I am _immensely _glad. One of the primary things they were interested in was a formal alliance... apparently to put political pressure on another country on Reticuli Prime, as I understand."

"Sedin. They have a list of crimes against humanity as long as my arm. The latest method my country has been using has been political alliances to pressure them into reforms, if not total capitulation."

Sha'ira observed, "You don't think that will work, do you?"

"I have my doubts." Marshall admitted. "But there _has _been the beginnings of change, simply from the alliance we formed with Rannoch. I guess... I don't know anymore. Three armed conflicts didn't do much to change the political environment. Maybe clever managing of diplomatic actions will do the trick. I suppose stranger things have happened."

Marshall shifted the topic back to the agreement. "You said _one _of the primary things. What else did my leaders ask for?"

Sha'ira grinned impishly. "For a seat on the Citadel Council."

Marshall honestly had not seen _that _coming. "I'm sure you took that stipulation well."

"I was not bothered." Sha'ira corrected. "Councilor Hackett was furious at the idea. I was honestly afraid for a moment that he was going to do something rash, much like he tried to pull with you. Fortunately, he quickly demonstrated the pragmatism that got him his position."

"And the other councilors?"

"Vael and Honoris didn't like the idea of humanity having two seats on what, in theory, is the highest legislative body among the developed species of the galaxy... but let's be honest... your homeworld was rather negotiating from a position of great power. They could have asked for considerably more, and we would have really no choice but to suffer it. They did not offer much more than their concerns."

"What about Councilor Rhaze?"

"Rhaze and I... have actually been entertaining a radical reform of the Council for some time. I suppose it's a nature of our lifespans; we consider and discuss at some great length how the Council can adjust and shape itself as the galaxy slowly comes back together."

"In the spirit of honesty, I had _never _liked how the Council made itself from the moment I had settled on the Citadel. There's really _no _way one representative of a species could ever even _begin _to encapsulate the interests and needs of an entire species. It has always made sense to me that at the very least, each _planet _should be able to have a voice in the highest assembly of the galaxy."

"So then what stops a species that gains a majority of seats from dominating legislation?" Marshall queried. Political theory wasn't his strong point, but he had learned enough from osmosis to hold his own.

"As if that didn't happen _before_?" Sha'ira replied. "It's precisely why the Council restricted itself to galactic and inter-species policy. The only thing that more bodies involved would do would be to make it _harder _to reach a consensus... which as far as I am concerned, is a _good _thing."

She pushed herself away from the table. "But that is mere theory, and there's little evidence that it will be the end result. The important matter is that Reticuli has their seat, and we will soon have the drive that will very likely save us all. There are... other things... as well, but I don't want to be the one who ruins that surprise."

"Oh, really..."

Sha'ira nodded. "It's a decision that stems from our agreement, and is part of the little details that are still being ironed out. What I _will _say is that your next visit to Earth, I suspect will be _much _more pleasant for everyone."

"I think I'll wait to make that judgment myself." Marshall replied. His guards always went up by default when someone started talking like Jonas.

Sha'ira then offered her hand, saying, "Again, Captain, I thank you for your patience and understanding. You were in a most unenviable position, and I appreciate your efforts."

"Thank you." Marshall said, courtesy requiring he return the handshake.

But as their fingers touched, Marshall found himself faced with a flash of what he presumed was Sha'ira's memory. She was addressing a different human male, offering him a "gift of words" as she put it. What surprised him was that it was a face he recognized, a face seared into his memory.

The asari councilor seemed genuinely surprised by the contact, withdrawing her hand and causing the memory to fade. "Well, _this _is intriguing. I can't say I've even seen a human display that particular gift. I wonder, how much did you see?"

Marshall was _not _amused. In fact, he was quite annoyed at what he saw, and he made no effort to hide it, either. "Enough."

Sha'ira tilted her head slightly to the left. "I see you are aware you have this gift as well."

"I am." Marshall acknowledged. "I try not to use it much."

"Then I must apologize again. I did not mean to upset you. I use the gift to get a sense of what is required of my wisdom... it would seem to have triggered yours."

"Apology accepted. And I am sorry to be so cross. This empathic connection, as my people call it, has been more of a curse than a gift in my life."

"Yes, I got that sense when our thoughts merged." Sha'ira said. "Then I suppose I do have a gift of words for you after all. Do not turn your back entirely on this unique and special gift you possess. I promise that when your last days pass, you will feel grateful that you have it."

Sha'ira's impish grin returned. "I'd offer you more, but I suspect you would decline... much like the man you saw in my memories did."

"You suspect correctly."

She moved to the door of the conference room. "Then I shall see you again soon, Captain. Until then."

* * *

><p>That next meeting was another three days later. The <em>Iwo Jima's <em>crew had been beginning to wonder how long they were expected to hold position by the time the call came for Marshall's next meeting with the Council. He expressed the belief that this would finally prompt the orders they were waiting for... at least, he hoped.

It was as he returned to the Council Building, that he found he appreciated Councilor Sha'ira's "informal" visit... because he was reminded at how obnoxious clearing security can be, especially when not escorted by a councilor. It was no doubt Hackett's subtle revenge for not getting his way initially. On top of all the waiting involved; waiting at security, waiting to be informed of proper protocol by a council advocate, waiting to be presented to the Council, waiting to be _acknowledged _by the Council... Marshall's mood had started to sour by the time he finally stepped in front of the quintet of leaders.

There was actually an audience for this meeting, several hundred dignitaries, journalists, and observers on both decks, though specific details about number and conversation were difficult due to the theatre styled lighting shrouding the upper deck in increasing darkness.

Marshall couldn't help but make one jibe. "Councilor Vael, I must say I am somewhat surprised to still see you here."

The quarian councilor again started wringing his hands. "Senator Raan is a... very powerful personality, I shall admit. I have been granted a temporary right to continue representing Rannoch until the homeworld senate can discuss the matter in full, and send a replacement if need be."

"We have no such luxury with our newest councilor, as it was imperative that he be included in Council matters as quickly as possible." Councilor Hackett said. If he was still incensed by the decision, he at least wasn't showing it. In fact, he looked quite grim, like something else very big was on his mind.

Upon inspection, the entire Council looked distracted... something was weighing heavily on their minds, and it was clear they did not want to waste time. Sha'ira spoke next, saying, "So, without further delay, allow me to introduce our colleague from Reticuli Prime..."

Sha'ira wouldn't have needed to finish the sentence. Marshall knew the face of the man who appeared via holographic projection to the side of the Councilor's Box. Marshall knew the man quite well indeed. He had been mentor, superior, and (mostly) good natured tormentor for many years.

"Councilor Jonas Moss."

He figured he really shouldn't be the least bit surprised. The Reticulian Parliament had several political parties that had been trying to get him into the political sector, though Jonas had politely refused, preferring to throw his weight around off the record. The Parliament would have jumped on this opportunity to bring him above ground, and Jonas would not have been able to refuse such a high honor.

"Good day... Councilor." Marshall replied.

"Good evening, Captain." Jonas answered with equal lack of emotion, although he quickly betrayed his thoughts with a broad grin. "Guess they couldn't keep a bad man down forever, huh?"

Marshall shook his head. "That makes two of us."

"Councilor Moss will take part in official Council buisness by QEC until the means of transporting him to earth to represent Reticuli Prime in person are available." Councilor Hackett explained. "Which actually brings us to our first order of business. Councilor Sha'ira, I yield the floor to you, as you were the lead for these negotiations."

"Thank you, Councilor." Sha'ira said with a polite nod as she stood. "As rumor has suggested, we will soon have the means to a viable faster-than-light alternative for our various peoples. Our finest technical experts are working as hard as we can to make the designs we have been given to be a reality. A clearer timetable will be made available as we learn it. To the peoples of Sol, we only ask for your patience."

"I wish to end this Council's gratitude to Captain Brasser, of the NMS Iwo Jima. Without the bravery of him and his crew, this turn in our fortunes would likely never come. And to the Reticulan Councilor, we wish to extend our gratitude to the people of your world, for their tireless pursuit of the technology that has spared all peoples of Sol from a grim fate."

Yes, that was _exactly _what Jonas needed, someone inflating his ego, Marshall thought.

"I, and Reticuli Prime, were pleased to be of assistance, Councilor. We look forward to being a part of this rebuilding galaxy."

Sha'ira smiled, and nodded, then turned her eyes on Marshall, "Captain Brasser, I mean not to dally. I am sure you will have much to do in these coming hours and day, and I do not want to keep you from doing so."

Marshall wasn't sure if he liked the sound of that.

Sha'ira turned her head back and forth between her colleagues, and asked, "We are in agreement on this score, correct?"

Rhaze grunted, "You know we are, asari. Stop wasting the Captain's time, let him make his decision, and let him get to work."

Now he _knew _he didn't like the sound of that.

Councilor Hackett took charge of the proceedings as he and the other members of the Council stood. "Captain Marshall Brasser, could you please step forward?"

Marshall reluctantly did so, to the center of the chamber, even as his every instinct was to tell him to run the exact opposite way, screaming.

"Due to the glowing recommendation from our Reticuli Prime colleague, as well as your own demonstrated valor on Eden Prime, and your years of combat experience, it is the decision of this Council that the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Branch of the Citadel be reopened, and that the first commission of the reopened Spectre division be offered to you."

_That _got the crowd buzzing, low murmurs that started drifting to the chamber floor.

"Spectres are not trained, but chosen." Sha'ira interjected, her words practiced and scripted, either reading from a prompt or reciting from memory. "Individuals forged in the fire of service and battle; those whose actions lift them above the rank and file."

"Spectres are an ideal, a symbol, the embodiment of courage, determination, and self-reliance." Councilor Rhaze then said. "They are the right hand of the Council, instruments of our will."

"Spectres bear a great burden." Councilor Vael added. "They are protectors of galactic peace, both our first and last line of defense; the safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold."

Marshall had began angrily staring down Jonas as the recital began, the new Reticuli Prime Councilor grinning like a Cheshire Cat the entire time.

Councilor Honoris concluded the ceremony with a question. "Captain Brasser, do you accept this honor and burden, and take on the title and role of Spectre of the Citadel Council?"

Marshall knew what was expected of him, even if he wasn't sure he liked it. "I am honored by this decision, and yes, I will accept your commission."

A polite round of applause followed the murmurs, and Sha'ira gave Marshall his leave. "Then I ask you return to the Iwo Jima, Captain. There is much to prepare, and we will have our first orders for you within the hour of this session's termination. You are dismissed... Spectre."


	37. Chapter 37

_Author's Note: Yep, for this story, Kaiden is the one that eats it. Sorry Alenko lovers. If it's any consolation; I really couldn't decide, so I flipped a coin._

**Chapter 37**

Chipper had been the smart one. She noticed that her captain was two seconds from a nuclear level eruption the moment he stepped onto the shuttle, and had smartly kept her mouth shut; not a word passed her lips as she made the return trip to where the _Iwo Jima _was still holding position.

Smoke had been the not-so-smart one. News traveled fast, especially when the induction ceremony had been on live broadcast that the_ Iwo Jima _patched into, and relayed all the way to Reticuli Prime, Rannoch, and anywhere else they had established a QEC link to. So, he couldn't help but jump to his feet and salute as Marshall appeared on the bridge, and saying with a grin, "Welcome back, Spectre Captain!"

Marshall delivered such a withering, baleful glare that any plant life in between himself and Smoke would have died in seconds. Jessie hadn't even been _looking _towards her captain, and felt the temperature drop on the bridge, instinctively cowering from what was certain to be a catastrophic eruption of rage.

Instead, the captain looked away, and stomped to his quarters, overriding the automatic slider so that he could slam it closed.

Smoke tentatively turned about, towards the fore of the brige, and muttered, "Okay. _Not _happy." Of course, it took him about three seconds to piece together why, and how stupidly he had stepped in it.

Dani shook her head rapidly as Smoke's eyes fell on her. "No way. I'm not going in there. I like living, thank you."

Hopefully he turned to Jessie. "I don't want to die, either." The comm officer declined.

Chipper cut off Smoke's thoughts before he even could begin to turn his head her way. "Don't even think about it, Commander."

Smoke sighed in resignation. He knew Ghost wouldn't _actually _hurt him. But Smoke also knew what tended to follow these moments of rage, and that was something that hurt Smoke in an entirely different way.

Taking a steadying breath, the commander moved towards the door to Marshall's quarters, and requested entry.

Marshall ignored the first beep. He ignored the second. And the third. And the first twenty. Smoke had gotten up to forty-two when he saw the lock notification change from red to green.

The cabin was near pitch black, even the blast shields drawn over the exterior window, the only light in the entire room coming from the console at Marshall's desk. The captain was hovering over said console, arms crossed, sneering like it had done something tragically wrong.

"The Council said they'd have their first orders for me when their session ends." Marshall explained. "So I'm waiting."

"In the dark?"

Marshall shrugged, "Never bothered to turn them on when I came in."

Smoke then did so, prompting Marshall to swivel in his chair to face him. "What do you want?"

"Ya know, usually when someone becomes the second human to be..." Smoke began.

"Third." Marshall interrupted crossly.

"Hunh. The report said second..."

"I'm sure it did, although I'm sure Jonas and the Council would love to be able to officially retcon history like that." Marshall grumbled. "The audacity of Ashley Williams to _dare _get between Commander Shepard and his Reticuli version!"

Smoke tilted his head questioningly. "You _honestly _think that's what this is all about?"

"I _know _that's what it's all about." Marshall snarled. "I can guarantee you it was Jonas's idea... one of the 'little things' that was squeezed into the negotiations. Reticuli Prime spectre, and who better than the man that Reticuli Prime heralds as their Commander Shepard?"

Smoke replied, "Yeah. Who better? Who else do you know go through a one year tooth and nail military campaign with a team of rag-tag specialists with barely any support outside of unofficial channels, and have all of _six _casualties the whole damn time?"

"Seven." Marshall corrected.

Smoke pointed a warning finger at the Captain, and said, "We are _not _having that discussion right now, so don't even start down that road."

Marshall huffed, but said nothing further.

"Second, who else goes onto a hostile planet, three against three fuck ton millions, and not only gets all three of them off that trap alive, but pulls ten kids out of the fire while he's at it?"

"It's all political bullshit." Marshall retorted. "There was absolutely _no _reason to throw that in my lap. It's another way for Nimea to apply political pressure on Sedin. Hell, Senator Raan probably had that induction ceremony streaming directly to Admiral Gerrel's office. It's _all _fucking political. Jonas only wanted to so that his special project could get another feather in his cap. "

Smoke slammed his hands on Marshall's chair, closing the distance and violating any sense of personal space. "No! You were _Heimer Sedin's _special project. Don't you _dare _group Jonas in with that piece of shit. I _will _shove those words back down your throat. Jonas treated you like a fucking _son_, not a human weapon, and you damn well _know _it."

Smoke stepped away, and threw his arms out in frustration. "I swear, every time you get something resembling a promotion, you get like this. Do you think you have legitimately earned _anything _in your life? When you made Black Ops Commander, what were the first words out of your mouth?" Smoke made a very poor imitation of Marshall's tenor, and said, "It's only because there is no N7 designation in the NMS."

Marshall had settled on glaring as Smoke continued, "When you made Captain, a rarity among Black Ops leaders mind you, what did you say to _that_?" Again, Smoke's impression followed. "I'm surprised... Shepard never made Captain. Odd that they'd deviate from the career plan."

Smoke once more leveled a finger in Marshall's direction. "No one _gave _you Commander. No one _gave _you Captain. And no one else made a career of doing what was logistically impossible so that they could hand you Spectre status!"

"You didn't see the asari councilor's thoughts." Marshall said darkly. "I _did_. I saw the first place her memories went once we made contact."

"So the fuck what?" Smoke replied. "Maybe something about you reminded her of the guy. Believe it or not, military field leaders with brooding psychological issues yet still do three impossible tasks before eating breakfast kinda stand out."

Anything further that would have been said were interrupted by Jessie coming over the comm. "Captain? The Council wishes to speak with you. Commander, I'm afraid to say you don't have clearance for this meeting."

Smoke grinned. "Nah, I kinda figured as much. I'm not a Spectre after all."

Marshall tried to retain his anger, but instead shook his head. "Get back to the bridge, Smoke. I'll fill you in once we're done here."

Smoke took his leave, and Marshall opened the comm. Two separate projections formed, one from Earth and the other from Reticuli Prime, encapsulating the now six members of the Citadel Council. "Greetings, Councilors." Marshall said as amiably as he could manage.

"Greetings, Captain." Councilor Sha'ira spoke. Clearly the Council on Earth decided she had the best rapport with him, and were letting her spearhead the discussion. "We apologize for the length of the delay... official business can get... drawn out."

"I still say we shoulda just told the Batarian ambassador exactly where he could shove his demands for the first fabricated drive." Rhaze grumbled.

"That is not the purpose of this meeting, Councilor Rhaze." Sha'ira reprimanded sternly. "Captain, there was a specific reason we decided to reopen the Spectre Branch. It is a bit of a long story, so please bear with us."

"Doesn't have to be..." Rhaze huffed.

"Few people still alive do not realize that Commander Shepard survived the Battle for Earth." Sha'ira said. "He survived the Crucible firing, the Citadel collapse... all of it. The only people who know or knew this served on this Council, and the crew members of both Normandy vessels."

"Why the secrecy?" Marshall asked. "One would think that the great hero living through hell would be something to celebrate."

"It was Commander Shepard's decision." Rhaze cut in, apparently worried that Sha'ira would resort to far too many words.

Sha'ira again stared down the krogan. "He had been found near death, hanging onto life with not much more than sheer stubbornness. When he recovered from his injuries, he requested that he be granted a ship and a crew of his choosing... and for the galaxy to believe that he had succumbed to said injuries. He had seen something on the Citadel, something that he did not want to scare an already wounded and reeling galaxy. From there, he took the Normandy, and those who accepted being part of his crew, and left the Sol System using traditional FTL."

"And what did he see that prompted this action?"

"It's unclear, actually. Councilor Tevos is the only one still alive from that particular meeting, and I have been unable to contact her. It was part of the reason for the delay... I was hoping to get a more accurate retelling of the meeting. It had been done off the record, and shortly after that, the official report that he had died meant that any further conversations would remain off the record, and sealed even to the current Council. But... we think we might have a better idea now. Council Moss, you may proceed."

Jonas picked up the briefing. "The pieces started fitting together once NMS shared their findings of your mission to Eden Prime with the Council. This Council knew that whatever Shepard had wanted to pursue was related to the Reapers, but not much else. We now believe that the commander saw something on the Citadel just before it fell apart that led him to believe that the Reaper threat wasn't entirely abolished... which your discovery on Eden Prime would seem to confirm."

"We were able to confirm what your leaders could only presume. The quarians you found on Eden Prime _were _husks. Someone has revived Reaper tech, Captain." Sha'ira said. "And we doubt Eden Prime was responsible for it. We also believe that what Commander Shepard tried to find and the revival of this tech are related."

"And we don't know what the results of this covert mission of the commander's was?"

Sha'ira shook her head. "Again, the records are sealed, and currently in the possession of retired Councilor Tevos. The only way we will have access to those records are either with her approval or her death. Unfortunately, she went on a diplomatic mission to Thessia twelve days ago... that erupted into violent conflict. She has not been heard from since."

Marshall exhaled heavily. "And you need someone, and by someone I mean 'me', to go to Thessia and either retrieve the former councilor, or proof of her demise."

Sha'ira nodded, "Yes, Captain, and why the Spectre status we granted you was crucial. Thessia commando squads have set up a blockade perimeter to contain the in-fighting. You will be able to use your status to pass the blockade and enter the district. I have already informed Major Taris T'Quel, the commanding officer in charge of containing the violence, of your impending arrival."

Jonas spoke up again, "As a matter of formality, I need to inform you that Nimea Military Services has from this point terminated your tour of duty to prevent any potential conflict of interest with your Spectre duties. The Iwo Jima has been granted to the Council for the purpose of fulfilling those duties. The current crew of the Iwo Jima needs to submit letters of intent within the next forty-eight hours informing NMS, or Rannoch in the case of Commander Dani'Arah, as to whether they wish to serve as Spectre Support Personnel, or if they wish to return to active duty with their original organizations of note. NMS will honor any letter of intent that wishes to remain under your command, under the caveat that their tour of duty will no longer end at the prescribed year, but at your discretion. Any that do not choose to continue in your service will be granted indefinite leave on Earth until means of returning to Reticuli Prime are made available."

"Your estimated time of departure for Thessia is in six days, Spectre." Councilor Hackett finally said, deliberately using the new title, no doubt to assert that Marshall was indeed now under his authority.

A subtle cough from Sha'ira prompted Hackett to add with a hint of a surly tone, "It is the decision of the Council that for the sake of ease of communication, that you will report directly to Councilor Moss, who will then keep us abreast of your progress. Good luck, Spectre. Council out."

The five on Earth disappeared from his console, but Jonas lingered. "Just like old times, huh kid?" He said.

"I guess." Marshall replied, trying not to sound bitter.

Jonas took a moment to decide what he was going to say next. "You know, I'm not blind. Not yet anyway. I could see how were staring me down at the induction, and I know why."

Marshall held his tongue. Any reply that would have left his lips would not have been complementary.

"For the record, what Councilor Sha'ira said was true. The spectre status was for expedience, rather than some suggestion by me. I know how you feel about Commander Shepard. I know how that name haunts you. If there was any alternative solution, believe me that I would have thrown it out there first thing."

Logically, Marshall knew that.

"I didn't want to say this to the rest of the Council; they were damn near spooked to all hell just getting your findings from Eden Prime. But I have absolutely _no _doubt that what you saw there was just the start. I'm not sure why, but I can just feel it. Someone, or something, is trying to revive that timeless nightmare, and this galaxy can't afford for its leaders to be asleep at the fucking wheel again. We need to find the source of this, and we need to stop it. Marshall... we need the best on this, and to be perfectly blunt, you're the best we got."

The newest spectre sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"Good. Now I suspect you should tell your crew about what they need to do. They've all got a big decision to make, and not all that much time to make it. Well... you can tell Smoke that I have already composed his letter of intent to stay under your command, and that he only needs to submit anything if he doesn't."

"Understood... Councilor." Marshall said, finally cracking a hint of a smile. Two could play the title game.

"Jonas out."

The comm then went completely silent, and Marshall took that as his cue to return to the bridge. Every eye turned in his direction as Smoke yielded the captain's chair, and Marshall took his place. Marshall took a moment to drink in the scene, because no matter what, things were going to change.

He then activated the comm at his chair, and said, "All hands, this is your former captain speaking."

_That _got everyone's attention. He held up a hand to still the questions and disbelief of the bridge crew, and once he got that silence, was able to continue. "As a consequence of my recent Spectre commission, the Nimea Military Services has terminated my commission with them. As such, I am no longer officially your commanding officer for the time being."

"All crew members will be required to submit letters of intent to their commanding headquarters. While I cannot speak for Rannoch, or the Geth... or Parnak, NMS will honor any letter that states they wish to continue serving under my command as Spectre Support Personnel. Those who do not wish to continue will have their current tour of duty deemed completed by NMS, and will be granted leave on Earth until they can be returned to Reticuli Prime. Said letters need to be submitted within forty-eight hours, or it will be assumed that you do _not _wish to continue. Cap... Spectre Brasser out."

Dani was on her omni-tool before Marshall had even finished his address, and was tapping her foot expectantly, eyes focused on the glowing device on her arm before it finally received the answer she was looking for. "And done!" She chirped, pleased with herself. "It's good to have a direct line to the leader of the Rannoch Senate." She then turned to Marshall and said, "Sorry, sir, but you aren't getting rid of me that easily."

Smoke grinned and asked, "Do I _really _need to submit a letter?"

Marshall chuckled. "Councilor Moss said he had drawn one up for you... but I'd submit one anyway, just to be on the safe side. Jonas is kinda gettin' old, his memory isn't what it used to be."

Marshall suspected that the decision wouldn't be nearly as easy for the rest of the crew, although he was definitely glad that he'd be seeing two familiar faces once the _Iwo Jima_ took to the stars again.

* * *

><p>By the time he retreated back to his quarters, all he wanted to do was to fall asleep and let the day end in slumber. But he also knew there was one person that would <em>never <em>forgive him if he did that. So, he tiredly slumped into his chair, opened up the comm, and sent out a communication request.

"Hi, daddy!"

It hurt to see her face flash up and project above the desk surface, because he knew that it would be the _only _way he'd see her face for an indefinite time. "Hey, kiddo. I figure you've already heard the news."

Kelsey nodded vigorously. "Uh huh! They stopped classes and held a school assembly so that everyone could watch it!"

Marshall frowned. Apparently, the only one that hadn't known it was coming was _him_. "Did they now?"

"They did... but... Grandpa Jonas also told me that you'll be gone longer than you were supposed to."

Marshall closed his eyes. "Looks that way, kiddo. How did Aunt Marie and Uncle Roger take that news?"

"Aunt Marie was happy for you! Uncle Roger grumped about it, but he really couldn't make too much of a fuss before Grandpa Jonas threatened to punch him in his bitch ass mouth."

"_Kelsey!_" Marshall barked.

"But... that's what he said!"

"I don't care! You can use that language when I'm dead, understand me, young lady?"

The girl sulked, but said, "Yes, daddy." Her mood quickly brightened however. "Oh! After watching the ceremony at school, we had a special study period where we learned all about the Spectres and what they did and how cool they were and how much of a honor it was that you were chosen!"

The frown couldn't stay put when talking with his daughter. "Yes, I'm sure you win all the 'my dad could beat up your dad' arguments now."

Kelsey scoffed at the thought. "Like I didn't before. My daddy... humanity's second Spectre!"

"Third." Marshall quickly corrected. "There was another one before me who was commissioned during the Reaper War, Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams. She deserves to be recognized and given due respect afforded to all who assume the station."

"Oh. Okay then! You can count on me to spread the word!" Her enthusiasm turned to confusion. "I can tell Mr. Sanderson, and he can tell... whoever you're supposed to tell... I guess."

She was trying hard to cheer him up, and he figured the effort was worth acknowledgement. "That's my girl."

Her features shifted to concern soon after. "Does it bother you? Being a spectre?"

"Now why would it?"

"Because I know who humanity's _first _spectre was. And I know how you react when you hear… his name, even when you try to hide it. Your eyes narrow and your cheeks puff out a little. It bothers you."

Marshall ran his hand through his hair. "It's a long story, kiddo."

"I kinda know some of it. I know a lot of people talk about you like your our home's Commander Shepard. They've been _really _bad about it lately."

He couldn't fight back his disdain. "Wonderful."

"But you're not." Kelsey said. "You're you. You're my daddy. Remember what mommy used to say about you?"

He had _tried _to forget. "Yeah, I do."

"Mommy never said 'you're special because you're like Commander Shepard.' She always said 'you're special', daddy. She always believed you'd do great things, and that they'd be _your _great things. And I believe her. You _are _special, daddy, and one day, you'll see what I see, and Grandpa Jonas sees, and Uncle Smoke sees, and Aunt Marie sees... and what mommy saw."

Marshall inhaled slowly. "Thanks, kiddo. I think I needed that."

"I love you, daddy."

"Love you too, Kelsey. Be good."

"I will daddy! Kelsey out!"

Marshall slowly pushed himself out of his chair, slid out of his uniform, and collapsed face first onto the bed. _Now _he could sleep. He prayed it would be a dreamless one.


	38. Chapter 38

_Author's Note: Advance apologies for this being so long. There wasn't any place I thought that would make a good break point._

**Chapter 38**

Marshall woke up thirty minutes before the forty-eight hour deadline, wanting to do a swift patrol of the _Iwo Jima _to get a hint of who was staying and who was leaving before getting an official report from NMS. It wouldn't be all that hard, make a sweep of the ship, top to bottom, and see who was packing up their personal effects, and who wasn't. He already knew some who were opting out, but his curiosity was getting the better of him.

He was a bit taken aback when he went to his closet, and didn't see the familiar red uniform waiting for him... remembering after that moment of surprise that a new outfit had been sent yesterday, as well as one perk to spectre life that he was going to enjoy... no formal uniform dress.

What he had been given were three all-purpose reinforced tactical shirts and cargo pants, night black in color, with his name emblazoned in gold across the left breast. They were remarkably comfortable and gave him full range of movement... and could be worn by code to any official setting. No more bulky jackets or starch ironed slacks anymore.

Even more surprising was that he could keep his old armor, and that he also had no regulations pertaining to his combat gear. Not that he had any particular plans to modify or replace his current loadout, but that he could without having to fill out three different forms to three different departments was refreshing.

Suitably dressed, he stepped out onto the bridge to begin his patrol, and he was mildly surprised right from the start... not so much by who _was _at their stations so much as who _wasn't_.

Chipper and Mayes were at their customary positions at the helm, but the rest of the bridge was empty. Marshall knew Smoke was in his quarters getting his clearance status updated by NMS, as he was now the senior officer of note. Dani had sounded like she had been approved to stay on, so her absence was surprising, as was the distinct lack of Lieutenant Michal and Ensign Keefe.

He approached the two pilots, and coughed lightly to get their attention. "So, the both of you are sticking around, eh?"

Chipper snorted dismissively, and turned back to the helm. "Of course _I _am. You're the first commanding officer I've ever had that's let me actually _be _a pilot. Why the hell would I want to go back to those sniveling, chauvinistic pigs of the Nimea Fleet? They had their chance."

"Seems wrong to end a tour of duty halfway through, ya know?" Mayes agreed. "Sure, you're not NMS anymore... but you're still my captain, I mean... not officially... but I might still call you 'Captain'... that's not wrong... is it?"

"I was _not _discharged from NMS." Marshall noted. "My commission was terminated. Legally, I'm on leave until my commission is reinstated, which will be whenever my spectre duties are deemed complete. So, yes, I still technically hold the rank of Captain, and it is still proper to address me as such."

"That's good." Mayes said with a sigh of relief.

"So... out of curiosity, where is everyone else?"

"Worried half your bridge crew opted out, sir?" Chipper teased. "Well, worry not. I know Jessie had sent out her letter of intent within two hours of the end of her duty shift that day. She's currently on the Citadel working out the remaining kinks in our translators. Don't worry, sir; Fluffy, Destroyer of Worlds isn't going anywhere this ship isn't."

Marshall remembered Jessie saying something about that, and figuring that while they were docked at the heart of the galactic melting pot, that she might as well get all those details worked out.

"Meanwhile, Dani is _also _on the Citadel. She was called to a meeting with Councilor Vael and Senator Raan. Not sure what that's about, but I don't think it has anything to do with her staying on."

"Ensign Keefe _is _opting out, though." Mayes said. "He wanted to make it clear that it's not anything particularly wrong with your command, sir. He just... felt like the odd man out up here, and he didn't want to be relegated to night duty to feel like he was doing anything."

Marshall acknowledged that. "Yeah, I don't blame him. Once Dani came aboard, the three of you rather formed a little team that could handle everything at the helm. Poor guy often had little to do. Well, he can always count on my commendation. As Needlepoint-enabled ships become more common, helmsmen with that experience will be more and more coveted. He'd have his pick of the fleet, I'm sure."

"Sir, as much as I'd love chatting with you, Lieutenant Commander Toole is testing out some new drive configurations, and we're supposed to be helping him with feedback up here." Chipper said.

"Oh, well don't let me interfere with business." Marshall said with a chastised smile, and stepping back from the pair. "I'll probably be checking in with the LC in a bit anyway."

Marshall retreated to the elevator, then pressed up to go to the first deck. He already knew that the brig chief was leaving, personal matters back home had gotten him worried and he wanted to get back as soon as possible, and that the Citadel would be assigning someone from C-Sec to take his place.

Khull, on the other hand...

Marshall wasn't sure if it was because the yahg were just _that _alien, or that Khull was just very very good at hiding his true feelings, but Marshall still wasn't quite able to really "read" Khull like he could with most people.

Khull was where he normally was, sitting in the center of his "quarters", cross legged, reading from a datapad. "Whatcha got there?" Marshall asked.

Khull looked up. "A book titled 'Fifty Shades of Gray.' I had assumed it was a book on monochromatism. I was... mistaken, but it has been... educational... nonetheless. My people have a book on the same themes; and equally detestable to the easily offended. Love in Pain, it is titled."

Khull sat down the pad. "Yahg don't see color the way humans do. Our infrared vision tends to tint everything we see towards that part of the spectrum."

"Hence the interest in color-blindness." Marshall concluded.

Khull nodded. "But in reading this particular book, I learned something else. It reminded me of that book from Parnack... and how I don't see how I can ever go back. I wouldn't be welcome, nor would any ship that would even _want _to return me."

"But at the same time... this entire episode has made me realize that I can't stay here forever. I've never been one to worry about what the future holds. Most of my life that was decided for me, and on Novi, I was too concerned with surviving to see the next day to give it much thought."

Marshall nodded, "That's true. But worrying too much about the future can be equally bad."

"Which is why I'd like to stay here, for as long as I can." Khull said. "Presuming I would be welcome. I think there is more I can do, as part of your crew."

"I agree, which is why I'd welcome you. Although... are you sure? From what I've seen of the Citadel. There's quite the melting pot of cultures and species. I don't think you'd feel all that out of place."

Khull didn't seem convinced. "Any salarians?"

"Yeah. A few."

"Then no thanks."

"There might be a salarian added to this crew." Marshall noted.

Khull grinned. "Now why didn't you tell me there was going to be gourmet catering?"

Marshall slapped Khull on the snout playfully. "_No _eating the crew."

"But salarian liver is _delicious_!"

"I said no."

Khull huffed, and crossed his arms. "Very well... but if any salarians try to enter my quarters, all deals are off."

"I think that's fair." Marshall said. "I'm going to check out the rest of the crew. Try not to get too homesick."

"I won't. I just need to remind myself that my people threw me one way down a mass relay."

Marshall left the brig with a chuckle, and bypassed the second deck on his way to the third. The first thing he noticed was the lack of a galley chief, which was not a surprise. Petty Officer Lake had made his decision to opt out quickly, and Marshall had not tried to convince him otherwise.

The dextro-poisoning incident had only been the first of many mistakes the galley chief had made, Lake demonstrating a complete lack of concern towards orders from above, barely paying attention if not outright ignoring them. An open contempt for that "bow legged alien freak" had not helped matters. Lake had blamed Dani for his problems, and frankly, Marshall was glad the petty officer was leaving.

Marshall took a turn to the right, towards the med bay, and stepping inside. Doctor Coyle was on top of him almost the moment he entered. "Captain, or is it Spectre now? I'll be honest, I'm not sure which is the proper protocol."

"Either works, doctor." Marshall said, looking over Coyle's shoulders around the med bay.

"Looking to see how much I've packed, sir?" The doctor asked. "I can simply tell you. None. I plan on staying, and Nimean Associates of Medical Practice has already cleared me to continue."

"I see. I'll be honest, I wasn't sure what you were going to do. I can't imagine you signed on for what we had faced so far."

Doctor Coyle raised a curious eyebrow. "You mean the combat? I'd be rather foolish to think that signing onto a military vessel did not carry the possibility of conflict, and I am no fool, Captain." He turned to his left, towards his desk. "I served my tour of duty in NMS, just like any other civilian. I was so devoted to the country's cause that I volunteered as an emergency medical surgeon during the Oceanic War."

"I didn't know that." Marshall replied. "It wasn't listed in your dossier."

"Seattle Hospital denied my volunteer claim. Didn't want to risk their most valued physician. So I volunteered under a psuedonym, worked under the table, and cited a sabbatical for six months. I'm sure everyone knew what I was _really _doing, but with no legal paperwork connecting me to my service, the NAMP had no grounds to issue an investigation."

"Discovered you liked being a military medic?" Marshall suggested.

The doctor shook his head. "On the contrary. I began to resent it. Patching kids up just to send them back out into the meat grinder, and for what? A bunch of data discs?" He shook his head rapidly, the motion moving downward into a repulsed shiver. "It didn't get any better once I returned to my official duties, and I started seeing patients from both nations again. I didn't see patients anymore... I saw slabs of meat that were just going to get thrown away in the next conflict."

"Going to Sedin will do that to you." Marshall scoffed.

Coyle leveled a steely look on the Captain. "I wasn't just talking about them. You think Nimea was the peaceful non-aggressor? Hell, our country _started _two of the wars, and arguably the third as well. You taught history. I figured you'd have known that."

Marshall cringed at the jab. "Okay... so then why accept a commission on a Nimea ship?"

"Because I realized my thoughts weren't healthy. I needed to get as far away from Reticuli Prime as I could. Or do you think premier physicians with six figure salaries normally take positions for a fifth of the pay and a tenth of the resources?"

Marshall couldn't let it go without a jab of his own. "You have. Twice now."

"And a point for the captain at last." The doctor said with a single laugh. "I finally found what I was looking for in the aftermath of Eden Prime. Those children came to me malnourished, mistreated, damaged physically and emotionally. By the time they left, they were already starting to laugh. We took them from a terrible place, and put them into a better one. For the first time in years, I felt like I actually made lives _better_, rather than patching them up for the next war. _That's _what I want to feel. That's what I feel here. We are, in however small a way, trying to make this galaxy a better place... and I want to be a part of that."

"And you will for as long as you want, doctor." Marshall declared, clapping Coyle on the shoulder.

"Now if you don't mind, Captain, I am told I have several more alien physiologies I am required to add to my ever expanding encyclopedia of knowledge. "

"Understood. I'll let you get back to it."

From the med bay, it was yet another deck down. He took the turn to engineering first, and to the domain of Lieutenant Commander Lance Toole.

The chief engineer was another enigma. Sometimes, they had a great rapport. Other times, there was a degree of distrust and suspicion between them. It was something Marshall really wanted to sort out before they jumped off into the unknown again.

Lance was hunched over an open panel that contained power lines to the drive core, on his knees and up to his elbows in the inner workings of the drive. It was quite unusual for a crew chief to be getting his or her hands dirty in such a fashion, that sort of grunt work was reserved for the assistants in most cases.

Marshall coughed to get the engineer's attention. "Is this a bad time?"

Lance didn't even look in Marshall's direction. "Not at all. Just doing a little tweaking of the battery charge coil. I think I can get the core to run five seconds longer before needing to shut it down."

"One never knows when five seconds will come in handy."

"Exactly." Lance finally straightened, stood up, and turned to face Marshall, wiping his hands on a towel tucked into the waistband of his slacks. "So, what can I do for the Council's newest Spectre?"

"Trying to get a sense of who is staying and who is going before official word comes through" Marshall explained. "Probably pointless, considering I'll be getting that news within the hour, but who knows?"

"Well, I'm not going, if that's what you're wondering." Lance scoffed, as if insulted at the very idea he would. He spun his head towards the drive in the rear of engineering. "I'm not a researcher. I was good at it, make no mistake, but it's not who I am. I'm a ship engineer. This is as much my home as Paradisio Cove. I belong here, on this ship. This is _my _engine room, and I'll be damned if I walk off and let any one else touch it."

The engineer then gave Marshall a suspicious eye, and asked, "Why? Were you hoping I would?"

Marshall shrugged. "Never had a single problem with the ship's operation. Your work has always been top notch. Do I need to consider anything else?"

"I think we do." Lance said flatly. "I won't lie, I was suspicious that you'd be an effective captain. I'll also be honest when I say I'm not entirely convinced. All it takes is one moment of duress, and years of discipline is completely undone."

The engineer took a deep breath, and then said, "But... I suppose if anything would have broken you, that mess down on Eden Prime would have, wouldn't it? Perhaps I've been _too _suspicious of you... you deserve the benefit of the doubt."

Marshall shook his head. "I have plenty of people keeping me clean, LC. I suppose one more shouldn't be that much of a bother."

"On that related note; I probably should inform you, as the Iwo Jima is now currently in service of the Council and that as a spectre you operate outside traditional NMS protocol, that I no longer have any mutiny protection afforded to me. This ship is all yours now."

"Well _that's _a relief." Marshall deadpanned sarcastically. "Because you had been holding _that _over my head at every opportunity."

"It _is _a relief. For _me._" Lance corrected. "Now I have no reason to question your every move, and can focus on what's important; keeping this ship the pride of the Nimea fleet. Which, by your leave sir, I'd like to get back to doing." He snapped a respectful salute at the conclusion of his words.

Marshall returned the gesture. "Carry on, LC."

As the door opened, Marshall very nearly clapped Seven across the side of its head, as the geth had been literally waiting centimeters away from the door. "Christ, Seven; we have _got _to get some social courtesy subroutines running through your system... or something."

"I extend apologies, Brasser-Spectre. The ship tracking system had identified you on this deck. Proper courtesy would suggest I wait for your business with the Lieutenant Commander to conclude before intruding."

"Yes... but..." Marshall decided he had better things to do than explain the social customs of doorways. "Nevermind. What can I do for you, Seven?"

"Prime Platform 391 has granted permission for me to continue serving under your command, pending your approval."

"Are you sure you want to stay? I bet you'd be quite popular on the Citadel."

"There have already been twenty-nine queries from Citadel authorities requesting my presence." Seven confirmed. "My preference, however, is to let you have right of first refusal."

Marshall smirked. "That didn't answer my question."

Seven had another one of its awkward silences. Marshall sometimes wondered if other geth behaved that way, and how it must feel to be on the other side of such moments. As fast as the geth processor operated... did it feel like _years _waiting for a response?

"No. It did not." Seven finally concluded. "I would prefer to continue with the organics that have already become accustomed to me and not require another period of acclimation."

"Then you're welcome to stay aboard." Marshall acknowledged. "In fact... why don't you follow me for a bit? There's a couple matters of business that still remains, and I might as well take care of both of them in one fell swoop."

With the geth falling in step behind him, Marshall made his final visit of his patrol, to the armory, and something he knew he had to face whether he liked it or not... and he rather didn't.

Lieutenant Valanov had told him within the hour of his announcement that the armory chief was going to opt out. It had not been an easy decision despite how quickly the armory chief had reached it, but Tolstoy had family that he could not leave indefinitely, especially since he had already promised he wouldn't be gone more than a year.

Marshall didn't fault Tolstoy for the decision. God, a part of him strongly wished he could do the same himself. But at the same time, it was going to be hard to picture an armory without the playful wisdom from the man who had become the _Iwo Jima's _elder statesman.

Tolstoy was already packed with both bags slung over his shoulder by the time Marshall entered the armory. The soon-to-be former armory chief looked up quickly, and said with a laugh he didn't entirely feel. "You're not going to try and change my mind, are you?"

Marshall shook his head. "Wouldn't dream of it. I couldn't even bring myself to _try _keeping you from your family any longer. I _do _want to know if there is anything you need from me before you leave. Is NMF going to give you any trouble over your benes?"

Tolstoy shook his head. "If they were, you'd be long gone somewhere else by the time they did. I don't see why they would though. I've fulfilled my part of the agreement, and they've granted my tour closed."

"Well, let me know if the brass tries to weasel out of it." Marshall declared. "I don't care where I am."

"Understood, Captain." Tolstoy extended a hand for a shake. "I want you to know how much of an honor it was serving under you."

Marshall took the offered hand. "The pleasure was mine, Lieutenant."

"I'm not a very big fan of 'goodbye', which is why I'm hoping I can slip out of here _before _the deadline." Tolstoy said.

Marshall shook his head. "Too late. There's already a good clump of crew at the airlock waiting to wish everyone who is leaving off. You're gonna have to talk to 'em."

Tolstoy frowned. "Damn it. Oh well... time for parting, comrades. Pray I make it _off _the ship, then pray I make it home safely."

"Done and done."

An exchange of salutes led to Tolstoy's departure to the elevator and the end of his service career.

His departure was followed by a fairly anxious Ensign Larisa Grimes. "Captain... Spectre... sir?" The ensign asked. "Who is going to be the armory chief now? Are we getting someone from the Citadel?"

"I believe we are adding someone, but that person won't be the station chief." Marshall said.

"Then who is going to be in charge down here?"

Marshall grinned. "You are... Lieutenant."

Grimes's eyes turned as wide as saucers. "M... me? Seriously?"

"It was a tough decision, Lieutenant. Both you and O'Carter had been lauded by the departing Lieutenant Valanov, and you both had shown aptitude in combat as well. But I think NMF made the right choice. The uniform tech already has added the pips to your other uniforms... just let him have your current one when you change tonight or tomorrow."

She saluted crisply. "Yes, sir. I won't let you down, sir."

"I'm sure you won't."

The freshly promoted lieutenant then asked, "Sir... you wouldn't happen to know any information about the person we're adding to the armory staff, would you?"

Again, a sly grin played across Marshall's face. "Indeed I do." He jerked a thumb back behind him, where Seven was still dutifully standing. "I know our geth friend here has been assisting with non-essential tech repair. Since I've been informed that our tech is no longer going to be proprietary, I figure it might as well help out with everything, right?"

Seven added its thoughts to the matter. "I could not impose in such a manner without the approval of Grimes-Lieutenant, Brasser-Spectre."

"I say it's about damn time." Grimes said, hands on her hips. "Be a good thing to get you fiddling with something more than omni-tools. I expect to see you 0500 tomorrow morning. There's a lot to get done before we break dock."

"Yes, Grimes-Lieutenant." The geth answered.

Marshall left the armory with the feeling it was going to be in good hands. He then went back to the third deck to join the rest of the well-wishers. From there, it was to his quarters where he anticipated to be greeted by the official list of departing crew and possibly the new crew incoming.

Instead, he found a message from a Doctor Karin Gartier of Huerta Memorial Hospital on the Citadel, requesting he return her attempted communication as soon as possible. Out of curiosity, he signaled the ID in question, and was taken aback at how promptly the woman on the other end answered.

"Spectre Marshall Brasser?" She asked.

"This is."

The doctor heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, I am so glad this message got through to you. Councilor Hackett's office said they'd pass word along, but you know how these things are. Important stuff takes priority, and minor things get lost. Honestly, I wouldn't have bothered at all... but this is important to me and my patient so..."

"Doctor." Marshall interrupted. "You've found me. It's okay."

"Yes. Yes, so I have." Doctor Gartier said, biting her lower lip in embarrassment. "My apologies for rambling. I have a patient, as I mentioned; he doesn't have much time left, and he requested he get the chance to speak with you. He's a well respected man, sir, and one of the few surviving human veterans of the Reaper War. I thought it would be important to do all I can to fulfill what very likely will be his final wish."

"A noble endeavor indeed." Marshall agreed. He liked seeing medical care experts who went to such lengths for their patients, even the ones near death. "Tell me, does this patient have a name?"

"Mr. Jacob Taylor."


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

Marshall had decided to quickly bone up on Jacob Taylor before he went to their meeting, and was fairly surprised by the results. Not that the Alliance database didn't have _reams _of information on the man... but that _Reticuli _had some sparse details as well.

Alliance records and history rather whitewashed Taylor's Cerberus ties, and while it wasn't like Reticuli's top secret records had anything particular of note, Marshall was rather amused the lengths that history will go to clean up a figure's life before it gets subjected to public consumption.

He stopped reading once he entered the service elevator that would take him to the proper deck where Huerta Memorial resided. Even in its still damaged state, with one of the arms merely tethered by cable to the rest of the structure, the Citadel was a breathtaking construction; both for the sheer scale of the station as well as its architectural and artistic marvels.

He almost couldn't believe the Reapers had designed and built it. He couldn't wrap his mind around the idea of the _Reapers _concerning themselves with aesthetics and form. Then again, that was probably part of the trap... part of how the Citadel stagnated the minds of its denizens... leaving them ripe for the inevitable slaughter. An awestruck mind is rarely a questioning one.

"Presidium Deck Four, sir." The elevator operator, a turian male with a ceramic cast around his right leg said. Marshall had learned he was supposed to be a construction worker, and had been injured during some support beam repairs. As the injury was not life-threatening, he would not have been given medi-gel even if he had wanted it, instead being given that cast, and put into this role until the leg had fully healed.

Marshall nodded respectfully to the worker, stepping off the elevator and onto the Presidium proper. It had been another disturbing highlight to how desperate the situation in this system was becoming before the _Iwo Jima's _appearance had reignited hopes. They were not able to maintain the production of essential health products to support the population, even with the rare ships from Thessia and Tuchanka providing what supplies they could send on ships willing to brave the six or seven year trip at the very least... each way.

Which made it all the more astonishing that a human could live one hundred years past the Reaper War like Jacob Taylor had.

Marshall located the directions to Huerta Memorial from the directory taped to the wall, along with a note saying, "Avina temporarily offline." Both messages looked fairly old, suggesting "temporary" had a much different context in Sol than in Reticuli.

Taking the turn left, and following the quaint manual signs, he reached said hospital, which mercifully was in one piece, fully powered, and properly maintained. One thing that it was _not_, however, would seem to be properly staffed; as Marshall found an empty reception desk that remained empty for nearly five minutes before a young asari nurse, still in her scrubs, dashed through the doors leading to the decontamination room. "I do apologize for your wait, sir." She said as amiably as she could through hasty breaths. "How can I help you today?"

"I am Marshall Brasser. I was asked here to meet Doctor Karin Gartier at my earliest convenience. Is she available?"

At that point, the nurse's eyes settled on the name emblazoned on his shirt, and bulged in embarrassment. "Oh, Goddess!" She squeaked, cheeks fully aflame. "I am _so sorry_, sir! You shouldn't have had to wait so long! Please, accept my humble apologies! I'll get the doctor right away!"

Marshall held up his hands in warding. "Miss, it's all right. Believe me, it's okay. You have important business, I understand that."

Meanwhile, the nurse was on the comm. "Doctor Gartier? Spectre Brasser is here to see you. He's been made to wait far too long already. Please come to the front desk as soon as possible."

"Miss... there's no need to rush her." Marshall tried to interject. "If she has patients to see, let her do her job..."

His protest became moot when Doctor Gartier emerged into reception. "Spectre Brasser, thank you for coming so promptly." She said, offering a hand in greeting.

Marshall took it, saying, "If you all have business to attend to..."

The doctor shook her head. "No more than usual. We try to train all nurses in basic care, and that's why Alyce was away from the desk. She was observing a bone setting. Hardly a vital operation, nor was I doing anything more than check ups myself." She waved Marshall forward, adding, "Come along, sir. I will show you to Mr. Taylor."

They passed through the doors, into the decontamination room, as Marshall noted, "I have to admit, it's been a while since I've seen medical personnel in sterilized scrub gowns."

"Preserving power." Doctor Gartier answered, the edge of the blue field washing over her as it moved towards Marshall. "The Citadel is still only about 60% functional at this point, so powering down the decontamination screens on non-critical wings helps."

"So, Mr. Taylor is in critical condition?"

The doctor leveled a patronizing glare. "He's approaching a hundred and thirty. Perhaps Reticuli Prime still has the up-to-date medical support that allows humans to reach a century and a half, but I'm afraid we lost much of those resources. It's a miracle that with all the punishment he took in his early life that he lived to see one hundred."

They were cleared to enter the critical care wing, and Doctor Gartier picked up her pace; any faster and she might as well have been running. "Are we in a hurry, doctor?" Marshall asked as he closed the distance again.

"I wasn't kidding when I said Mr. Taylor didn't have long to live, sir. His condition took a sharp turn for the worse this morning. We have him on machine assisted breathing and heart function. The only reason he hasn't told us to stop is because he insisted to meet you."

Gartier stopped at the second door to the end of the hall on her left, manually keying in the code to unlock and open said door. "He's right inside. I'll wait out here... he requested to speak to you alone."

Marshall complied, entering the ward. He understood that Jacob Taylor wasn't going to look _anything _like the picture in the man's biography, but to see the nearly skin and bones that time had reduced Jacob to was still disconcerting, although Marshall couldn't see much more than Jacob's arms, neck, and head due to the heavy comforter pulled up over the rest.

A middle aged woman sitting at the other side of the bed stood, her hair starting to turn gray, the family resemblance difficult to determine due to Jacob's advanced state. She bowed slightly, then offered a handshake. "Lisa Henning." She introduced as they shook. "I'm Jacob's granddaughter, and serving as the representative for his family and his estate."

"Just you?" Marshall asked.

"Hospital regulations don't allow more than one guest at a time in the critical condition wards." Lisa explained. "They want to keep paths clear and quick access to patients. As a matter of fact, your presence means that I probably should step outside." She looked back to Jacob, and said, "I'll be back soon, grandpa."

Jacob made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a sigh, followed by a weak wave with his right hand. As Lisa left, Jacob Taylor finally turned his head slowly to face his latest guest. A flurry of phlegm riddled coughs racked the man's throat, and it was several seconds before he had the strength to speak. "Damn breather nanomachines don't do shit." He groused.

"I suspect without them you probably wouldn't be here, sir." Marshall replied.

"Like hell I wouldn't be." Jacob snarled, as another series of coughs afflicted him. "Still got things to do." Wheezing twice, he paused to catch his breath. "Alright. Get over here. I can't see as well as I used to, and I have to make sure you're not some faker the doctor sent so that I can die like a good boy."

Marshall entertained Jacob. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't, but I am who they say I am, sir."

Jacob's sneered, "Drop that 'sir' shit. You're the captain, not me. If anything, I should be saluting _you_." His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Marshall, then he said, "So... you're the guy from Reticuli Prime, are ya?"

"Yes."

"Never been there... but I had heard of the place. Cerberus used a lot of the research done there as the fundamentals for the Lazarus Project. I kinda figured if you all were still alive after the Reaper War that you brainiacs would cook up something to fix this mess."

"Glad we could help."

"And now you're the one they're sending after Shepard, huh?"

Marshall crossed his arms suspiciously. "And how, pray tell, do you know _that_?"

Jacob hissed out what sounded similar to a laugh. "I have the respect of a lot of people in some very high places, Captain. I have ways of knowing things."

"Is that why you wanted to meet with me?" Marshall asked. "Do you know something about his mission?"

Jacob shook his head weakly. "If I did, don't you think I would have told the Council already, rather than have you run off to Thessia to find some retired Councilor? Hell... I only found out about Shepard's mission in the first place on accident. He didn't even _approach _me about it."

"Then why _did _you ask me here?"

"Because I'm selfish." Jacob admitted. "Because I need to get this off my chest before I can rest. As I'm sure you've been told, I was once a member of Shepard's crew... not that I was much of one."

Marshall took the seat that Lisa had vacated. "Why do you say that?"

Jacob coughed, his head jerking forward. Once settled again, he said, "When Shepard turned himself into the Alliance after the mess with the Alpha Relay, I figured that was it. That they were gonna make an example of him to play nice with the batarians, and the galaxy would be proper fucked."

The old man's voice became forlorn, almost a whisper. "So... I gave up on Shepard, and tried doing what I could. Put him in the rear-view mirror, and did my thing. I tried using my Cerberus connections to form an underground railroad of sorts for people wanting to get out. That's where I met my wife Brynn... bless her soul. We had all kinda figured by that point that Cerberus was bad news, ya see."

Marshall didn't respond, not wanting to interrupt.

"Fat lot of good I did. All my knowledge of Cerberus strategy and tactics, and ya know what I did? Got us all pinned down on some snowy hell planet called Gellix, pinned down with Cerberus heavy troops closing in... and guess who drops in to pull our sorry asses out of the fire I started?"

Marshall found a hint of bile forming with this story. "I think I can guess."

"Shepard does _everything _while I sit in med bay like a chump. He and the people who actually... ya know... believed in him saved my ass, Brynn's ass, and everyone else's ass. I wouldn't be here, wouldn't have _shit_, without him... and how do I repay him?"

"How?"

"By telling him sorry, I can't help you." Jacob coughed again. "By the time this all went down, Brynn was pregnant with our first son. I couldn't be a soldier... I needed to be a father. He also claimed it was why he didn't approach me about the mission he went on after the war. Said I needed to be with my family."

"He was right." Marshall said.

"Bah. That wasn't why. Or... at least... not all of it. When Shepard needed me... _twice_... I couldn't be there for him. I let him down. I _gave up _on him."

"I doubt he felt that way."

A sputtering cough preceded Jacob's dismissal. "Yeah, probably. Shepard was a damned altruistic fool sometimes. And I can't say he was wrong, really. I could see it in his eyes... he knew he wasn't coming back. Whatever he was doing... he knew it was gonna be the end of him. And I couldn't be there, like I should have been... because I fucking _gave up_."

The building anger caused Jacob to begin violently coughing, the spasms of his lungs so severe that Marshall started to reach for the call button next to Jacob's left hand.

With surprising swiftness for a man well past the century mark, Jacob shifted his hand over the button to stop Marshall. "Don't you dare." Jacob warned. "I'm not done. Not yet."

"Mr. Taylor..." Marshall said. "The last person you see shouldn't be me."

"It won't be. I've lived this long. I can live ten more damn minutes." In the complete antithesis of the initial move, Jacob slowly and gingerly moved his hand away after he felt he had made his point. "I would be an awfully shitty man to say that I'd trade everything to turn back the clock. I loved Brynn... I still do, even though she's not here anymore. Because of Shepard I was able to see my children grow up... my grandchildren... hell, even my great-great grandchildren. I lived the life I was given, and on that, I don't have any regrets. I've been fucking _blessed_, and I'm not so damn proud to admit I got a lot better than I deserved."

Jacob's eyes unfocused, looking through Marshall rather than at the captain. "But that doesn't mean I was right. I know there's no way in hell Shepard's still out there, Captain... but just in case... he's still out there... somewhere... can you please tell him... I'm sorry?"

Marshall gently patted Jacob's hand. "Yeah. I can do that for you. Anything else?"

Jacob meekly shook his head. "You've got stuff to do, I'm sure. Thanks for entertaining this silly old man."

Marshall stood. "Nothing silly about you, Mr. Taylor. It was an honor to meet you. Farewell."

"Hopefully if we meet again, it'll be another century down the road."

The captain took his leave, silently slipping out of the ward, where Lisa and Doctor Gartier had taken vigil. "Thank you, Captain." Lisa said. "Whatever the reason, he had wanted to see you, and it had been a weight on his mind. Hopefully, his last moments will be peaceful ones now."

"Take care of him, whatever time he has left." Marshall advised. "He needs to know that he was worth what he got from his life."

Lisa went back into the ward, and Doctor Gartier escorted Marshall out of the wing. "It won't be long now. I'm glad that he was able to find that last peace. Not many people do."

"No, they don't." Marshall agreed.

Marshall made his parting with the doctor, and with Huerta Memorial Hospital, trying to take as quick of a path back to the elevator as his legs could take him. Yet, at the first bend, a face that he was still trying to decide was a welcome one stepped in his path.

"Did you enjoy your meeting with Mr. Taylor, Spectre?" Councilor Sha'ira asked, her voice far too sweet to be half as innocent as it sounded.

Marshall took an even, non-committal tone as he stepped around the asari councilor and continued walking. "It was an honor to speak with a veteran of the Reaper War."

Sha'ira fell into step, eyes forward, looking far too smug for Marshall's tastes. "That's good. Mr. Taylor had been rather strung from the moment he learned of your mission. I hope you were able to ease that anxiety."

"More or less."

Her grin broadening, Sha'ira said, "It occurred to me that I never told you what _I _saw when our memories... touched."

Marshall stopped abruptly, any pretenses gone, and replaced with a warning stare.

Unintimidated, the councilor continued, "Oh yes, Captain. This 'empathy', as you call it, is a bit of a two way street. When you touch the memories of another, if they are also so gifted, they can see a piece of yours as well."

The captain refused to encourage the woman in front of him with a response.

The humor finally vanished from her features as she leaned in, lowering her voice so as not to be easily overheard. "I saw a dark, terrible, and despicable place; built in Shepard's name. I saw a young man burdened with a heavy legacy he did not ask for."

By that point, Sha'ira had leaned in close enough to whisper in Marshall's ear. "I would ask that you don't chase a ghost that didn't exist."

Marshall's eyes narrowed in annoyance, but he kept his head forward, refusing to make eye contact. "I need to return to my ship." He said crossly. "Is there anything else, Councilor?"

Sha'ira's grin returned, and she took three full strides backward. "No. That will do."

The captain rather rudely parted ways, not even so much as a farewell, reaching the elevator, and asking to be taken down to the dock level.


	40. Chapter 40

_Author's Note: This particular chapter could serve as the beginning to one romantic subplot within the story. I don't take this particular one, but it's something that others can consider._

**Chapter 40**

Marshall had regained his composure by the time he crossed the tunnel and back onto familiar territory. It wasn't like the asari councilor had said anything particularly untoward, nor had she belittled his experience. Nor was her advice bad. She would know from experience how history tended to deify its heroes, and that it was unfair to hold Shepard accountable for what history had painted him out to be.

Unfortunately, logic only went so far.

"Good evening, Spectre." Kelsey VI flashed in front of him, rocking back and forth on her heels, much the way the VI's likeness would often do. Smoke had been playing around with the VI settings as "practice", and that had likely been one of his alterations. "You have two unread messages the first from Nimea High Command, and the second from the Citadel Council."

"I'll take it in my quarters." Marshall replied.

"Understood, Spectre." The VI chirped, then vanished as abruptly as it had appeared.

It flicked out just in time as well, because he soon had another distraction. Smoke appeared not even a half second later. "Any news on the new crew yet?"

"I suspect I just got that message." Marshall said, jerking a thumb towards where the VI had been. "I was on my way to my quarters to take it. How about you? Everything squared away with High Command?"

Smoke shrugged. "Nothing much has changed really. My duties are entirely the same except that now I'm responsible for all reports to the O-9 Board." He sighed, and said, "Yay me."

Marshall clapped Smoke sympathetically on the shoulder as a familiar quarian voice prompted his attention to his right. "Captain?"

"There you are, Dani." Marshall said. "When you weren't on the bridge earlier, I was a little worried you had gotten lost on the Citadel."

Dani dropped her hands on her hips, a datapad dangling between the fingers of her right hand. "I told you that you weren't getting rid of me that easily." She then shuffled her feet nervously, and added, "But... you might want to."

Marshall's eyes narrowed. "And _why _would I want that? What did you tell Councilor Vael and Senator Raan?"

Dani shook her head in denial. "It's not what I said to them as it is what they said to me."

Smoke grinned. "I smell story time!"

"No." Dani replied crossly. "No story time."

"Stooooooooooorytime."

"Once upon a time there was a big bosh'tet who found a quarian foot lodged sideways up his ass." The navigator grumbled.

Smoke rubbed his chin and said playfully. "I dunno; could be a good story if you replace foot with..." The commander then noticed Marshall's disapproving expression, and said, "What? What's your problem? Got something wrong with..."

"You like giving, not receiving." Marshall answered with a sardonic grin. "You wouldn't like that story, and you know it." Changing his focus, he then said, "Alright, Dani. Lay it on me. What did your superiors say?"

"There was discussion among the Council that since the Iwo Jima was now in use by the Council, that it should try and reflect a more diversified crew than what it had left Nimea with. As a result, the new incoming crew members are going to be largely not human."

Marshall shrugged, and looked over at Smoke who shared his silent lack of concern. "As long as they are capable, they could be vorcha for all I care. There's plenty of talented people among all species, I'm sure."

Again, the quarian woman looked nervous. "The Council expressed interest that there also be a non-human among the command personnel. They decided... that I would be suitable for the position, as I already have command rank, and am already familiar with much of the crew so as to not cause undue discord."

She meekly handed over the datapad to Marshall, and said sheepishly, "My orders, sir."

Smoke peered over Marshall's shoulder as the latter perused the document on the datapad's screen. Marshall nodded, then handed it back. "Congratulations, Commander. I'll send you the pertinent mission details after I've sorted out all my other business."

Smoke then said, "Ya know... the LC isn't gonna like this. Has he been bumped off the command roster?"

"Not from what I read. Dani _is _third in line though, and no, Toole probably _isn't _going to like that. However, a more immediate concern is that we're going to have to find quarters for her. Can you get on that?"

Smoke nodded as Dani protested, "That's... hardly necessary, Captain."

Marshall disagreed. "Actually, it is, Dani. As command personnel, you are going to be trusted with information that you might not be able to share with the rest of the crew, as well as mission reports that non-command personnel are not permitted to see."

"Methinks the crew is going to have to deal with losing the Starboard Lounge."

Dani kinda _liked _the Starboard Lounge. "You don't have to convert that to my quarters..."

"Actually it was originally _intended_ to be LC Toole's quarters, but he wanted a place closer to engineering, so had one of the enlisted cabins repurposed. We'd be using the Starboard Lounge for it's intended purpose more than anything." Marshall replied, as his face turned thoughtful and his left hand rubbed his chin. "The crew's probably going to have to get used to hot coffins as well, depending on how many members the Council adds."

"Sounds like the vacation is over." Smoke said. "You got lucky, fucker."

"I spent ten years on the Iktomi sharing a bunk with three other rotating crew members." Dani said with a scoff. "Unlike you soft humans, there wasn't space for officers to get their own little rooms."

"Speaking of getting a room..." Marshall said reluctantly. He _really _didn't want to be the bearer of this news, but he figured it might as well be him. "I hope you are aware this puts you in the ship's chain of command. As a result, I'm going to have to order you that your relationship with Lieutenant Michal be put on the back burner. I let it slide before because you officially didn't have any authority over her, but now you do."

Dani waved off the concern. "Oh. Jessie and I broke it off shortly after Rannoch."

Smoke nodded in confirmation. "You... didn't know?"

Marshall shrugged. "Can't say it was a high priority of mine. The professionalism on the bridge didn't suffer, and that would have been the only thing I would have been worried about."

Dani smirked. "To be honest, we both knew it was a fairly silly fling when it all started. Neither of us thought it was going to be any more than a little bit of fun on our downtime. Jessie has always kinda had her eye on a... different prize."

Both Smoke and Jessie went eerily silent, carefully gauging Marshall's reaction. "What? Are you referring to the blatantly transparent teenage-styled crush she has on me?"

Dani exhaled. "So you _did _know about it."

Marshall shook his head. "She had been enamored with me from the moment she arrived at my class to escort me to High Command. She did not hide it very well. She probably fell in love with the romanticized version the Nimea entertainment industry likes to paint of 'The Secret Hero of the Oceanic War.'" He paused, then added, "I'm not kidding. That's an actual movie produced in Nimea."

"Oh, I know." Dani said. "Jessie has made me watch it. _Twice_."

"Next to none of it is true, for the record."

"I can imagine. You aren't _nearly _that muscular."

"The movie actually kinda blends Smoke and I into one character." Marshall explained. "What little was seen of our unit, eye witnesses just kinda _assumed_ the biggest guy was the leader. So when the movie script was written... they took my name, and put it on Smoke's body type."

"That must irk you both a little."

Smoke laughed, "Actually, Ghost and I _love _the movie. Best unintentional comedy we've ever seen." He poked Marshall in the shoulder, and said, "Remember that part when our character gets hit at point blank range by a capital ship's main cannon?"

Marshall snorted mirthfully, "Completely hand waving that a capital ship could be that low in planetary orbit... there is no way in _hell _anyone would survive a direct hit from the hydromagnetic main gun of such a ship. And yet we not only get up, only about half our armor is damaged. It's patently absurd."

Dani cut off their musing to get back on the topic that interested her. "Anyway... Lieutenant Michal."

Marshall asked, "What about her?"

"No interest at all?"

Marshall heaved a deep breath. "Jessie's a good kid. Smart... attractive... very easy to get along with... but she's still just a kid. I don't even think she realizes what she wants out of a relationship. Even if I _was _actively trying to get involved again... I wouldn't want to ruin a sweet kid like that."

"Awww... Captain... you're gonna hurt her feelings." Dani teased.

"Better than the alternative." Marshall answered, his voice drifting off.

Smoke eyes narrowed, and he warned, "Ghost..."

Marshall shot Smoke a glare, but any retort he might have had was preempted by a very angry shout from a very angry chief engineer stomping down the hall at a very brisk pace.

"_Captain_!" Lance bellowed, arms swaying violently with each heavy step he took.

"And here we go..." Smoke muttered, "Shame I don't have any popcorn."

Lance finally came to a stop, nostrils flaring, and Marshall asked evenly, "What can I do for you, LC?"

"What is the meaning of this?" The engineer snarled. "How could you let them do this?"

Marshall was determined to remain level headed, even as he found Lance's behavior fairly deplorable. "It wasn't my call, LC. And I really don't think it's appropriate for you to be that upset."

That just seemed to make Lance even angrier. "_Upset__?_ You let the Citadel assign some fucking alien and let them think she could supplant me? How did you _think _I was going to take it?"

Marshall finally had enough. "_Lieutenant Commander Toole! _That is quite _enough_! It is one thing to spout this bile privately to me, though it would still be pretty despicable. It is quite another to go on a bitter tirade when the object of your scorn is present and hearing every word coming out of your mouth!"

Dani, to her credit, was trying really hard to be invisible, and not appear hurt by the discussion. The quarian was not doing a very good job. Moisture was starting to pool at the bottom of her eyes, and her face was flushing with a violet hue.

Marshall was hoping that it would jerk Lance into something resembling an apology... even though the captain wasn't exactly sure _how _Lance could apologize in a way that sounded remotely sincere.

Instead the Lieutenant Commander was confused, his head spinning on a swivel. "What? Where? Did she follow me up here?"

Now the _other _three were confused. "I... I've been up here. A... all this time." Dani stammered.

Lance cocked his head. "What... are you talking about?"

Marshall pointed at Dani. "Dani's been promoted to third in the command chain."

Lance's eyes widened, but that was the extent of his reaction, his response reserved, if earnest. "Oh? Excuse me. Congratulations, ma'am. I didn't know."

Smoke cut in. "Wait... that's _not _your problem?"

Lance scoffed. "_Hell_ no. The less time I have to spend on the bridge, the better off I am. Commander Dani'Arah is more than welcome to sit in the chair when you and Commander Takei are elsewhere."

Marshall now was somehow not sure he _wanted _to know the answer to his next question, even as he knew he had to ask it. "Then... what _is _your problem?"

Immediately, Lance went from composed to enraged, finger jerking down towards the direction of Engineering. "My problem is a bloated, talking beach ball saying she has the authority of the Citadel to start ripping apart my drive core!"


	41. Chapter 41

_Author's Note: After this chapter, the story will be taking a bit of a haitus of sorts... mostly because the Leviathan DLC honestly hit a little TOO close to home as to the direction I was taking this story. So I have decided to at the moment wait out the storm of ME3 DLC to make sure that what I'll be writing actually fits the world given._

_Well... that and I've become horribly addicted to Guild Wars 2._

**Chapter 41**

"Hmmm... so _that _is what I did wrong. Fascinating."

Marshall had taken the front of the procession as they entered engineering, and the scene played out in front of them was pretty much exactly as Lance had described it; an unidentified volus with a largely dismantled spare Mobius Core in front of her scattered on the floor, most likely because she wasn't tall enough to reach the tables comfortably.

"_Hey!_" Marshall bellowed, even startling the crew that _saw _him enter. "Who the hell are you and what do think you're doing?"

The infringing volus jerked her head up so quickly that the momentum actually caused her to roll head over heels once before she was able to stop herself with her arms. By the time she had regained her bearings, she found an irate human spectre lording over her and staring down.

Scrambling to her feet, and picking up the datapad that had been next to her, she bowed as much as her rotund suit could allow, then handed over the datapad. "Spectre Brasser, it is a pleasure to meet you. Doctor Vadir Zim, drive and propulsion theorist. I have been assigned from the Citadel as a field expert to both learn and hopefully improve the performance of this vessel."

Vadir then pointed an accusing finger at Lance. "At least, I was _trying _to, until this uneducated lout interrupted me shrieking like a Banshee and telling me I had no right to do what I was specifically tasked to do."

Marshall confirmed the orders before returning the pad to its owner. "Nonetheless, this is Lieutnent Commander Toole's engineering bay, and what he says goes. There are plenty of other ways to learn more about the Mobius Core that don't involve making a mess all over the floor. Am I clear?"

Seeing that she was not going to receive any support on the matter, Vadir relented. "Very well, Spectre. I will acquiesce to the Lieutenant Commander's authority."

Lance had knelt down over the partially disassembled core, and was already at work putting it back together. "At least you know how to take things apart..." He grumbled. Lance would at least acknowledge that expert hands had gotten to that point in the deconstruction. "Think you can help put things together as well?"

"I've pieced together far more complicated devices." Vadir boasted as she dropped down to a kneeling position, her seemingly chubby fingers working with remarkable dexterity along with the omni-tool on her other arm. "Truth be told, there's something to be said for an elegant simplistic design. This drive core is truly a magnificent piece of workmanship."

"At least you can appreciate it." Lance replied, the darkness in his voice lifting in the face of Vadir's compliments.

"Oh, I can more than appreciate it, Lieutenant Commander." Vadir said, lifting her omni-tool and calling up a general schematic page from what looked very much like the scaling accelerator of the Mobius Core. "I'll be honest that the reason I was eager to open this thing up was to see how it compared to my design."

_That _got Lance to boggle. "Wait... that's... yours?"

"A design that sadly never got past the design phase." Vadir sighed. "I have spent the better part of ten years trying to perfect it in a way that investors can accept and fund. The goal was to develop a drive core that could produce more energy, with less static charge and allow ships to travel at faster speeds for longer... not that your scientists didn't find a _far _superior use for this style of core. But the only response I've ever gotten was scoffing derision about some 'silly perpetual motion contraption'."

Lance shook his head. "Shows what they know. It's _hardly _a perpetual motion machine. Sure, theoretically it will keep accelerating to the speed of light, and possibly even beyond, but there's no containment that could hope to maintain integrity long enough to reach that point. Sounds like some quasi-intellectual bureaucrats confusing theory with practical application."

Vadir made a sound that Marshall guessed was a laugh. "I can't _wait _to show what I've found to those stagnant rejects of the research funding panel."

"If they had listened to _you_, they wouldn't have needed _us._" Any animosity was gone from the engineering chief by this point. "Ya know what? Keep that design up. I kinda wanna see just how close you really are."

Marshall shared a look with his two commanders and said, "I think everything is in order down here."

The timing could not have been better, as Kelsey VI popped into existence. "Spectre, Petty Officer Childs in the galley has concerns about an unidentified Asari woman who has arrived and has begun rearranging the galley and giving orders. Petty Officer Childs wonders if this woman is the new galley chief."

Marshall rubbed his forehead. "Most likely. Tell PO Childs I'll be right there." To Smoke and Dani, he added, "Is reporting in with the commanding officer not protocol here?"

* * *

><p>Marshall would give the new galley chief credit; she ran a tight ship. By the time he and the commanders had reached the third deck, the entire galley was a flurry of activity to get things clean, get things in order, and to make sure it all stayed that way.<p>

"Spectre Brasser." She said respectfully with a nod.

"I see my reputation precedes me." Marshall remarked. "And you are?"

"Matriarch Aethyta. And of course I know who you are. Your face was plastered on damn near every news report for the last three days. "Her right eyebrow lifted as she watched the captain lean over the counter and look down. "Not sure what you're expecting to find down there, Spectre."

"Just making sure you haven't taken the oven apart and working on it down there."

"As filthy as it still is, I wouldn't _walk _on this floor if gravity didn't demand it."

Marshall pulled back with a smile. He had the feeling he was going to like this woman. "I'm no expert on the asari, but I can't imagine 'galley chief' is a role normally filled by a matriarch."

"And I can't imagine learning is a role normally filled by your brain." Aethyta snarked. "A matriarch can do anything she damn well wants to. I've served soldiers, politicians, homeless, criminals, students, fiends, layabouts, and freeloaders. It's what I do and what I have grown used to."

"Fair enough." Marshall replied, taken aback by the ferocity in the asari's voice. "I meant no insult."

Aethyta huffed, and warned. "Don't even try to get smug with me either. I've dealt with spectres too. I've dealt with _human _spectres before. If Shepard didn't intimidate me, you sure as hell aren't."

Smoke visibly cringed, waving his hands and shaking his head in silent warning.

Marshall, however, wasn't going to rise to the bait. In fact, he was rather curious about the apparent animosity there... it was an invocation that Marshall was not used to. "The mighty Shepard tried to intimidate you, did he?"

Aethyta frowned. "I doubt it was intentional. My daughter... was rather besotted with the man. So he was on my shit list right from the start. I'm sure I'm being horribly unfair when I call him an arrogant, ignorant bag of testosterone and fake charm. But it's what I feel. Why do you care?"

Marshall shrugged. Perhaps it made him a bad person, but that small tirade somewhat made his day. "Just trying to get to know the crew coming on board."

The frown disappeared from Aethyta's face, if only to be replaced by a neutral, impassive thin lipped line. "If you must know... my daughter is the reason why I'm a galley chief on some alien vessel that is going to Goddess knows where for Goddess knows how long." A long, slow breath was followed by, "She was a member of Shepard's crew... she'd follow him anywhere. I need to know what happened to her. And even though a father should never bury her daughter... I want to be the one that has to if it has come to that. I want to be the one that brings her home to Thessia... even if it's in a casket."

"So you know our mission, then?"

Aethyta rolled her eyes. "I am an asari _matriarch _with full clearance of Citadel intelligence. Of _course _I know what the mission is. I wouldn't _be here _if I didn't."

Marshall laughed. "Got it."

"Now if you don't mind, Spectre, I've got a galley and a cadre full of grunts to whip into shape, and not a lot of time to do it in."

"Understood, Matriarch. I'll let you be." Marshall said in parting, stepping away from the counter, and turning about.

He hadn't even taken three strides before Kelsey VI again appeared, delivering another report. "Spectre, you have been requested to the brig by Operative Khull. Apparently, there is a potentially brewing incident."

Marshall rubbed his forehead. "Alright. I'm on my way." He gave a quick glance back to the new galley chief, and said, "I'm looking forward to working with you. I think we'll get along just fine."

"I hope so." Aethyta retorted. "The last commanding officer I didn't like wound up dead. Completely by coincidence, of course."

"I'm sure." Marshall answered. Somehow he had no doubt that the asari matriarch was both lying _and _telling the truth there. He then distributed orders to the two commanders. "Smoke, I want you to get a jump on any more incoming crew. I'm clearing you access for the duty roster I got from the Citadel... go find these people as they come aboard if they don't find you, me, or Dani. Dani, you get back to the bridge. You'll be the primary contact for all incoming crew until I get back."

The pair saluted before they broke off their separate ways, Marshall momentarily following Dani towards the elevator, then watching her hop off at the second deck before taking it further up to the first.

* * *

><p>Marshall stepped onto the brig to see Khull standing vigil directly in front of his quarters, staring down a turian and a salarian dressed in C-Sec uniform. All three turned their heads in Marshall's direction once the main door to the brig opened.<p>

"Captain." Khull said in greeting, turning back to the C-Sec pair, crossing his arms defiantly.

The turian and salarian turned full about towards Marshall, and saluted crisply. The turian spoke first as he lowered his hand, saying. "Spectre Brasser. Officer Torin Mallus reporting, sir, assigned from C-Sec to serve as your brig officer. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Marshall nodded to the salarian, and asked, "And who might you be?"

"Lieutenant Hermin Rhab, from the Citadel Judge Advocate General."

Marshall's eyes narrowed. This was _not _something he had been anticipating. "A military lawyer. What brings you to this ship, pray tell?"

Hermin caught the inherent distrust, but was no doubt used to it, because his response carried no defensiveness or insult. "Orders of Executor Bush, commanding chief of C-Sec, under the authority of Councilor Hackett."

"And your purpose?"

Hermin remained non-plussed by the wary interrogation. "While the spectres inherently operate above the law, it's not always a bad idea to play by the rules as much as possible. My sole purpose on board this ship is to advise you of perfectly legal avenues to any given situation without having to invoke your spectre status. Nothing more, I assure you."

Marshall was mostly mollified by this, but jerked a thumb in Khull's direction. "So... what is going on here that Operative Khull deemed was necessary to call for my presence?"

"So he _is _a crew member, and not a prisoner." Torin said. "His name was not on any duty roster I received, nor did he show up as detained. I wasn't entirely certain who he was or why he was here."

"He's here because there's no quarters large enough for him." Marshall informed. "I do apologize for the confusion. Operative Khull here is a political refugee, so he doesn't have any official legal contact information. The Citadel likely overlooked him because of it. But yes, he is a member of my crew. I trust if you didn't afford him that proper respect before, you will now."

"Of course." Torin said. "Just a bit jarring to see a species you don't recognize sitting in an open brig cell was all."

"_You _didn't recognize him." Hermin said.

Torin rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah... the JAG here apparently knew. He was the one that freaked out about it."

"The yahg and the salarians have a bit of an unpleasant history, Spectre." Hermin said.

"I'm familiar." Marshall replied. "I have his word that he won't try to eat you unless you intrude on his quarters or his personal space."

The salarian took three small shuffling steps away from Khull's brig, just to be safe. "For what it's worth, I find what my species did to the yahg to be morally questionable at best, deplorable at worst. I will afford you nothing but my full respect, Operative."

Khull snorted distastefully, which Marshall hoped Hermin would identify as a positive sign more than anything. It at least meant Khull wasn't going to attack on sight. "So, you're aware of what your people did then." The yahg grumbled.

"My family had a history in Salarian STG, intelligence gathering mostly. We were part of the faction that refused Dalatress Linron's order and offered our assistance to the Systems Alliance. It of course doesn't make up for what we had done in the past, nor do I expect it to."

Khull huffed. "As long as you stay out of my way, I think I can suffer you."

Marshall said. "I won't lie, Lieutenant Rhab, I don't like you being here. Never liked working with the JAGs on Nimea, and I'm not going to hold out hope that a Citadel JAG will be any better."

"I'm used to the distrust, sir." Hermin said, trying to be amiable. "It's a tenuous relationship between a JAG and the active officers of a ship. I promise I will not overstep my bounds."

"Make sure you do, and I won't feed you to the yahg here." Marshall said darkly. "Meanwhile, you heard the Operative. Bug out. Yes, even you, Officer Mallus. I'll call you back in once I've squared away business with the operative. Rhab, report with Commander Takei on the third deck, he'll have to set up quarters for you. Dismissed."

Once the two C-Sec officers vacated the brig, Khull broke into a broad grin. "That was fun. Although the salarian isn't as scared of me as I thought he'd be, especially since he knew what I was."

"Yes well, you have my permission to put the fear of God in that lawyer." Marshall grumped. "Part of the reason I went Black Ops in the first place was because I hated having to memorize all their rules of engagement."

"The yahg have one rule of engagement; kill them until they die from it."

"I see the yahg hold no delusions about war, then."

"War?" Khull replied. "I was talking about mating rites."

Marshall laughed as another grin broke across the yahg's face. "Just keep it tucked away that I might want to use you to keep that JAG in line."

"It's a duty I will preform gladly, Captain. If for no reason than to teach that salarian his proper place."

"In your belly?"

"In my belly."

There were many times Marshall wasn't entirely sure if Khull was joking, serious, or a mix of the two. He was reasonably sure this time that the yahg was joking.

Maybe.


	42. Chapter 42

_Author's Note: Okay, I lied. There's another chapter I can, and should, squeeze in here._

_As to those that say I can just dismiss anything in Leviathan and future DLC, that is not something I want to do. As a "professional" writer myself, I would be rather miffed if someone decided to completely dismiss something I wrote because they thought it was "terrible" and not worthy of respect. Hell, the only reason I feel comfortable writing this at **all **is because Bioware has quite clearly declared that ME3 will be the last story they tell in the Mass Effect timeline._

_I intend to respect the vision of the creators of Mass Effect, whatever that may prove to be, and I will strive to make this story as consistent with the lore they establish as I can. It's the only way I can feel comfortable continuing._

**Chapter 42**

Accommodations on the Iwo Jima did indeed get tighter, but not nearly as bad as Marshall had feared. Hot bunking wasn't going to be necessary, but every cabin was now filled to their absolute capacity once quarters were re-assigned to Dani and the new JAG. The Starboard _and_ the Port Lounge had to be re-purposed, but everyone had a place.

Now it was simply a matter of getting resupplied and requisition orders filled, then they'd be cleared to disembark on their new mission.

But good ol' Murphy and his social laws weren't quite done with Marshall and his ship just yet.

The new Spectre caught hint of an argument just outside the loading bay as he was passing through the armory to get a report on how Seven was settling in, and upon hearing Smoke's voice as one of them, crossed the armory to where the shuttle doors had opened for the resupply effort. The commander was currently standing in the way of a rather large trolley loaded with a pallet of unmarked crates, though a hint of a pungent smell reaching his nose was a small clue as to its contents.

"What's going on here?" Marshall asked as he stepped down the ramp.

The supply officer quickly spoke up, "Commander Takei is refusing to let this shipment come aboard."

Smoke didn't even try to appeal to Marshall, leveling his gaze directly on the supply officer and growling, "The Iwo Jima is a dry ship by orders of Nimea High Command."

That confirmed everything; both the contents of the crates, and why Smoke was adamant they don't come aboard. It was flattering to have friends like him, even if the protection should not be necessary. He was going to have to prove he was above that failing at _some _point. "This vessel isn't under the authority of Nimea High Command currently, Commander." Marshall said.

"No... but..."

Marshall dropped a steadying hand on Smoke's shoulder. "It's all right."

Smoke, not surprisingly, wasn't convinced. "You sure?"

Marshall nodded slowly, and Smoke decided not to make any more of a public scene. Stepping to the side, he allowed the crates of alcohol to be loaded into the cargo bay. "I know that what... happened with you wasn't a traditional case... but... ya know I'm just watching out for you, right?"

Smoke was referring to the nature of addiction, in that there were two distinct types that didn't always go hand in hand. Marshall had absolutely _no _physical addition to alcohol, most likely one of the "genetic weaknesses" that Heimer had engineered out of him. The smell didn't trigger any welcome endorphin rush. His body chemistry was not yearning for the chemical.

But there was also a psychological aspect, and _that _was something Marshall was very likely still vulnerable to. Enough stress or hard times could drive anyone back to the comfortable embrace of something that could take the pain away. _That _was what concerned Smoke, and Marshall acknowledged he had every good reason to be wary.

"And I appreciate it, Smoke, but you know as well as I that I was going to need to prove I was above that at some point anyway." Marshall replied. "I'll be fine. Just don't... let me... ya know."

Smoke's eyes narrowed. "Maybe I'd be a little less worried if you'd actually be willing to... ya know... _talk _about it."

"That would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"But you're not going to." Smoke said with a resigned sigh.

Marshall shook his head in silent response.

"Guess I just gotta keep an extra close eye on you... like Alice would have wanted me to anyway."

A solid clap on Smoke's shoulder was followed by, "I sometimes don't deserve friends like you."

"Like hell you don't."

Dani's voice drifted over the ship's comm, appealing to Marshall. "Captain... you might want to come to the airlock. We... may have an issue."

* * *

><p>The issue wasn't readily apparent until Marshall really got a good look at the scene. The airlock was being used to ship in the small individual requisition orders, but the line was currently backed up as Dani gestured to Lieutenant Michal, who was currently in possession of a small mammal in a cage.<p>

"What is that?" Marshall asked, pointing to the cage and animal Jessie was holding.

The comm officer stammered nervously, "It's... a ferret... sir."

"I _know _it's a ferret, Lieutenant!" Marshall barked. "Why is it _here_?"

Jessie's cheeks turned nearly as red as her hair. "Because... um... I requisitioned it?"

Marshall's expression was blank and unreadable, prompting Jessie to stammer nervously, "Well... you know how miserly NMS is about requisitions? I kinda... asked for a ferret when the Citadel provided me the requisition form. I didn't expect they'd actually... do it."

Marshall's expression did not change, even when the turian supply officer on this end said, "Traditionally, the Citadel doesn't question requisition orders from Spectres or their support personnel. I'm told that is hardly the weirdest thing that's been asked for."

"What in _God's _name did you think we were going to do with a _ferret_, officer?" Marshall grumbled, face dropping into his palm. "Were we just gonna let it roam around the armory or something?"

"Commander Shepard had a hamster." The officer replied meekly. "We just figured humans had a soft spot for... animal companions."

Marshall was so aghast by the lunacy of the situation that his ire for Shepard's name didn't even flare up. "I suppose we do... but... just... goddamnit."

What had become clear was that a bit of a culture clash was truly responsible for this brewing mess. As Jessie had said, Nimea Military Services was _notorious _for being frugal to the point of absurdity when it came to supplying their personnel; the _Iwo Jima _being a drastic exception to the rule. Nimea officers had gotten into a tradition of asking for the most absurd, off-the-wall things they could think of both to "trick" Nimea into giving up the more reasonable requests (though that rarely worked) and as a passive-agressive voice of their displeasure.

This met head on with a policy from the Citadel to not question a Spectre, and something that might have been hilarious in a different time and place ensued.

At that moment, Smoke's eyes lit up, and the light bulb went off in his head. "Oh... oh oh oh..." He said eagerly. "Is there anything on that cart for me?

The supply officer went to his omni-tool. "Name?"

"Commander Ian Takei."

After consulting the manifest, the officer replied, "Commander, your requisitions have already been forwarded to your quarters."

Like a child on Christmas, Smoke dashed away at nearly top speed, and Marshall started massaging his temple. Jessie noticed this and asked, "Captain... are you worried about what the commander requisitioned?"

"No." Marshall answered. "I know _exactly _what he requisitioned."

Smoke reappeared two minutes later, clutching a twine bound bundle wrapped in paper, a smile of pure bliss on his face. "Ten pounds of Mexican Manna from Acapulco. This... is like taking a piece of the Holy Land with me."

With his right hand still latched to his face, he gestured with his left towards Dani. "Go on... lay it on me. What did _you _requisition?"

"Nothing!" The quarian retorted defensively. "Some cute clothes I saw at the Citadel... a new tooth file... a full wall projection entertainment center..." She grinned broadly as Marshall stared her down murderously, and amended, "I am kidding."

Finally, Marshall gave his orders. "Commander?"

"Yes?" Came the reply from Dani and Smoke in unison.

Marshall eyed Dani coldly from the corner of his eye. "Commander Bosh'tet."

"Yah?" Smoke said.

"Guess what you get to do?"

"Something I'm not going to enjoy, I bet."

"You get to go through _every single crew member's _requisition list, then strike out and collect any erroneous request by tomorrow morning."

Smoke exhaled. "I knew it."

"Consider it payment for getting to keep that stash."

That perked Smoke's interest. "I'll have it done by tonight."

Jessie immediately stepped forward, and handed Smoke the ferret cage. "No need to check this off. I wouldn't want him anyway. Ferrets smell terrible real quick. Had a bunch of them when I was little on my grand-pa-pa's farm house."

Marshall released a swift, deep breath, as if doing so would carry his frustration and annoyance with it. It didn't. "Perhaps bringing alcohol on board _wasn't _a good idea."

"Really?" Smoke answered, a hint of worry in his voice.

Marshall eased the tension with a half smile. "Because I swear this crew is going to drive me to drinking."

As Smoke took his leave, Seven approached. A bit surprised by the presence of the geth, Marshall was even more taken aback when the geth addressed the supply officer. "I apologize if I am intruding on your duty, but I have been unable to find any confirmation of my requisition request. Has the information been lost?"

The supply officer didn't even need to ask for a name. Another quick consultation of his omni-tool led to a response. "It has _just _been reported as filled three minutes ago, Infiltrator Platform 709. It will likely be on the next supply shuttle to the Citadel and the Iwo Jima by 1000 hours."

"Thank you, Officer. Your assistance is appreciated."

Marshall had to know. He had to ask. "What did _you _requisition, Seven?"

"Three pine easels, seventeen canvas sheets on pine backing, a palette, and three sets of paints, two oil based and one water-color."

Marshall hadn't been certain what he had been expecting Seven's answer to be... but whatever it was, the answer he got wasn't it. "Why did you requisition those?"

Seven's response followed another one of his unusually long pauses. "Perhaps it would be best to show you, Brasser-Spectre."

* * *

><p>The Life Support section of the Iwo Jima looked next to no different from before Seven took up residence as it did now, even to Marshall's trained eye. One such change was in the form of a loose leaf five-ring paper binder that Seven picked up from the main console in the section, and held close to its chest.<p>

"The geth never really had an opportunity to develop what organics would consider a 'culture.' Before self-sentience, we were all interconnected in a way that did not engender such individual expression, and it wasn't long after we gained it that the Crucible's firing reduced our numbers to a small population sample in stand-by mode." Seven explained.

"Since coming aboard this ship, I have been exposed to both visual, audible, and physical 'culture.' I felt compelled to experiment myself." Seven continued, tentatively handing the binder over to Marshall. "I chose a visual medium, as it would not disrupt the duties of the crew that other forms of expression would."

Marshall took that as a prompt to open the binder and examine the contents, Dani peeking over his shoulder in curiosity. What was inside was no fewer than twelve sketches with what appeared to be graphite on the paper, black and white renditions of what Seven had presumably seen in the daily goings-on of the crew of the _Iwo Jima_.

One picture featured Marshall, leaning back in the Captain's chair, his hands in front of his face, deeply contemplative. Another starred Dani in the mess hall as she picked distastefully at the food in front of her. Another yet had Jessie nervously biting her lower lip and looking up towards the "camera." Another still had Smoke and Chipper in what had been the Port Lounge, sharing a smoke and looking out the windows into space.

The likenesses and details were flawless, facial features nigh perfect and even the smallest details in the environment and scene presented were no doubt exactly where they would be in real life. "Seven... these are _amazing_." Dani said in awe.

"They are merely recreations of still images drawn from my memory bank." Seven said dismissively, clearly displeased with those efforts. "The samples of art I had uncovered from Reticuli Prime possessed something more that even I could sense. My initial hypothesis was that it was the flaws that created an illusion of uniqueness and life... but I have come to the conclusion that this hypothesis was flawed."

Seven took back the binder back almost nervously. "My hope with my requisition was that perhaps with a different medium and style that I could experiment more fully with the feeling of life that is missing from these drawings."

Marshall's lips drew into an approving smile. "And I wholly support your efforts, Seven. Dani, make sure Smoke knows to allow Seven's requisition to pass through his filter."

"Yes, Captain." The quarian said with a vigorous nod.

"And Seven..." Marshall added, "With your permission, I would like to submit those drawings you have to the Nimea Press Association. I think they, and the Nimean Public, would absolutely _love _to see them."

Seven paused, before reluctantly relenting and handing the binder back to Marshall. "As I did not acquire expressed permission of the people portrayed within, I do not feel it is my right to give such approval. I also am uncertain as to why your people would be so eager to view them. They are not 'art' in the sense that I interpret the word."

Marshall could help but let a small laugh escape. "Seven, I think you are closer to being an artist than you realize."


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

Councilor Hackett's assessment on the differences between Thessia and Earth were pretty much spot-on, as Marshall got a ground level view of the planet. Outside of two memorials he had seen, and signs of battle scarred landscapes on the horizon, Marshall would not have guessed a global-scale war with the Reapers had been fought here.

Where he and Earth's councilor diverged was that Marshall didn't particularly fault the Asari for their decision. It's nature to look after one's own first and foremost. He suspected he'd probably feel differently if he had grown up on Earth rather than Reticuli Prime, but that was neither here nor there.

"I cannot believe that there is a planet filled with exotic, free-loving women with no moral hangups towards sex with other women... and I'm stuck on the bridge while you get to experience that wonder. What a waste."

Dani's bitter complaining carried just enough good natured jibing that Marshall didn't get annoyed. "And that's _exactly _why you're up there, and Smoke is down here." He replied. "This isn't a vacation or a pleasure tour."

"Hmph!" The quarian commander huffed, and the communication terminated.

Smoke, meanwhile, had turned to the transport driver, and asked, "Is it true that every Asari is female?"

The driver took a deep breath, and with very even and practiced tone replied, "If you mean to say that all Asari are of the same 'gender' and that it bears strong resemblance to feminine traits among the vast majority of Council species... then yes."

Smoke slumped back in his seat, and exhaled distastefully through flared lips. "Whelp, my day's ruined."

Lieutenant Grimes and Ensign O'Carter in the row behind him got a chuckle out of the exchange as Marshall asked, "I take it that was a question you got a lot back before the Reaper War, Corporal?"

The driver tentatively shook her head. "Not me specifically; but it was enough of a question in the past that visitors from another species prompted it to be included in my briefing... sir."

Marshall had caught a sense of morose deference from damn near _every _Asari he had met with since landing on Thessia; an odd aura of... defeat... that fell like a blanket on them whenever he addressed them face to face. He expected as much from Asari leaders and dignitaries (there were still a few fences to mend between Thessia and the Council for that whole "hiding a vitally important Prothean Artifact away until it was damn near too late" thing), but to sense it from a rank and file soldier surprised him.

"Alright. Why is it that every single Asari I've met so far acts like I'm about to slap them?"

The Corporal winced, the action actually causing the transport to swerve dangerously. "Do... do you want an honest answer?"

Smoke answered in perfect deadpan, "No. He asked because lying to him makes him hard."

Marshall silenced him with a warning glare. "Not helping."

"Well... you do."

Marshall let that line go with nothing more than a dismissive head shake. At the same time, their driver spoke up. "Well... maybe it's silly and all, but I guessed we'd be at the top of the food chain again, like it used to be. Earth was in _really _bad shape, worse than Thessia... Palaven had it's population divided... the krogan... well... they're the _krogan_. And... it was all playing out like all our experts thought it would. Thessia's back on its feet, for the most part, and we were heading the research for rebuilding the mass relays."

She then gestured at the human group. "Then... this happens. A human colony appears out of nowhere, with superior technology, saves the day... and now humanity has the edge. Two councilors, the saviors of the galaxy... the first spectre in a century... for a lot of asari, this last week has been a real gut punch. We're used to being the best and the brightest, and now... we're not."

"We're all in this together, Corporal." Marshall replied. "Hard to have a race where there's no finish line."

"I suppose... sir." The driver said, if for any reason than to end the discussion than legitimate agreement. "We're approaching the lockdown zone. Major T'Quel will most likely be in Command Ops. It's the central building with Thessia's flag. You can't miss it."

The Major didn't even give them the chance to miss it. Taris T'Quel emerged from the building in question, three subordinate commandos behind her, just as the transport was pulling to a stop. The four Asari were in formation and saluting Marshall by the time he disembarked.

"Spectre Brasser?" T'Quel said, more in greeting than in question. "Major Taris T'Quel. Behind me are Lieutenants Sari B'Quon, Majia T'Siri, and Ursa S'Goi."

"Good day, Major." Marshall said, "With me are Commander Ian Takei, Lieutenant Larisa Grimes, and Ensign Patrick O'Carter." His eyes drifted over and behind the asari contingent towards the lockdown zone, and asked, "Fill me in on the pertinent details, Major. I assume you've been told of my team's objective?"

T'Quel had turned full about, and motioned for everyone to follow her. "The Eclipse mercenary group launched a full on assault on the city about eighteen days ago. First thing they did was cut all means of communication from the central monastery, and eventually cut all communication from the city in its entirety."

"There were commando units inside the city serving as police, and they've managed to bunker down within the monastery itself along with the civilian population that survived the initial attack. Councilor Tevos, the woman you're after, volunteered to serve as a mediator to try and resolve the conflict. We do not have any confirmation if she is alive or dead. All we know is that there is still armed resistance to the Eclipse, who exactly is still fighting is unclear."

"Has there been any attempts to provide relief to your people under siege?" Marshall asked, his attention still focused on the massive wall circling the perimeter of the city, gently jerking his chin upward to draw Smoke's attention to what he was seeing.

"When we can suppress the anti-aircraft fire, we make some supply drops. Attempts to offer relief or support on the ground are met with heavy resistance. Eclipse has physically altered many of the roads, either through blockades or outright ripping it up."

"What sort of head count are we talking about here?"

T'Quel shrugged. "Hard to say. Eclipse is a mercenary group, it doesn't give us any numbers willingly. Intelligence has a good idea about their total membership, but how many of them are actually _here _is another matter. Logistic analysis, however, has told us that there would need to be at least four thousand Eclipse inside in order to maintain control of the city the way they have."

"Only four thousand?" Smoke asked with a laugh.

"This isn't Reticuli, Smoke." Marshall warned, "We have no idea how the asari play the game, and until we do, four thousand is three thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-nine more than they would need to turn all of us into casualties of war."

He then address T'Quel. "Which brings me to what I'm going to need. Obviously, the Eclipse are in communication."

"Yes." The major nodded, "Heavily encrypted stuff, possibly randomized and using some authentication method. It's proven difficult for our intelligence to crack."

"I'll need it anyway." Marshall answered, then was on the comm to the _Iwo Jima._ "Lieutenant Michal, I've got a job for Seven and yourself."

"Yes, sir." Jessie said.

"You're going to be getting some encrypted communication protocols soon. I need the two of you to crack and tag it within twenty-four hours. Think you can handle that?"

"Between Seven and I, you can count on it, sir!"

His attention again turned to T'Quel. "I also need as up to date information on Eclipse combat tactics, armament, and all related military capabilities." Marshall turned, "That's going to be your job, Smoke. Break it all down, and brief Grimes and O'Carter in the process. I need to know any tactical advantage we can take into there."

"Aye aye, sir." Smoke confirmed.

"And now is where it might start to sound strange." Marshall admitted. "I need full biographies on anyone who might be running the show in there. I want to know where they grew up, how they were raised, what schools they went to, major events in their lives. I want to know who they were friends with as kids, what groups they hung out with as adolescents. I want to know their favorite musicians are, what artists they like. Basically, anything you think might not be the slightest bit of import about these people, I want it. Anything and everything you've got on these people."

T'Quel blinked rapidly, but said, "Very... well? Planning on putting together psych profiles or something? We've got that sort of thing already done..."

"I work much better with the details in front of me." Marshall explained.

"Understood, Spectre. It will be done. Anything else you need?"

Finally Marshall voiced the observations he had been making since he and his squad had arrived. "Actually, there is one more thing. I have to say, these are some awfully impressive fortifications to construct in eighteen days."

T'Quel grimaced, and half-heartedly offered, "We... work fast... sir."

Marshall grinned, a smile that lacked any cheer. "Or... it might have something to do with why every dignitary I met got real, real quiet when I informed them where I was going, and why Matriarch Delindra offered to give me and my crew 'treatment fit for royalty' while she worked out getting the information I wanted through less... savory... channels."

He violated the major's personal space, and said, "I want to know _exactly _what is going on in there that none of your superiors was all to keen on me seeing."

Lieutenant Sari spoke up in warning, "Major, ma'am... don't you dare... we aren't authorized."

"_He's a damned Spectre_! _What do you want me to tell him?_" Taris snarled angrily, the ire vanishing and replaced with melancholy when her attention again turned towards Marshall. "Firoris is... an Ardat-Yakshi reservation."

Marshall crossed his arms. "For those of us who aren't versed in Asari culture, do enlighten us."

"Ardat-Yakshi are a genetic mutation among asari, roughly three tenths of a percent of pureblood children have the proclivity that can then be passed on to their offspring. The mutation manifests as a horrific physical and psychological deformity... full Ardat-Yakshi are sterile by nature, nymphomaniac in behavior... and their melding causes fatal damage to their partners. It tends to be coupled with sadist tendencies, especially since my people treat it as a condition that requires either total sequestering in monasteries like the one inside Firoris, or... execution."

Smoke's face broke out into a grin, and opened a comm to the _Iwo Jima's_ bridge. "Did ya catch that, Fucker? Ya still wanna swap in?"

Dani's response was flippant. "Eh, there are worse ways to go."

Sari added, "They are exceeding dangerous, and likely why our leaders tried to sway you towards any other available option. You must understand, Spectre Brasser, it's more for their safety than it is ours."

Marshall, not surprisingly, didn't exactly buy that, and his icy tone of voice reflected his disdain. "I've heard of, and seen, my share of concentration camps in my day, Lieutenant. I can say quite confidently that _none _of them have been for the benefit of those inside. I refuse to believe that the asari play that game any differently."

He turned about, located the Command Ops building again, and said crossly as he made his way there, "I expect everything I asked for in two hours. I suggest you get to it."

* * *

><p>Marshall was willing to give credit where credit was due. Major T'Quel and her officers were more than helpful and didn't drag their feet when Marshall gave his orders; he and his squad receiving what he had asked for within that hour, much less two.<p>

He had appropriated the major's desk for his work, and if she had any particular objections, she didn't voice them in his presence. Marshall didn't expect to impinge on the major's work much longer, as by the time night had fallen, he had reached a very grim and irritating conclusion.

Smoke signaled to enter, and did so when the door unlocked and slid open. "Alright, if this info the asari got for us is any good, I think I have a pretty good grasp of what we're going to see in there, Ghost. Ready for a briefing?"

Marshall hadn't even looked up from the data pad he was holding, his lips drawn tight and his brows furrowed. "Jessie reported in that Seven did indeed crack Eclipse's encryption, and pretty easily at that. Impressed the whole Thessia Intelligence Board."

Marshall remained impassive, not showing any sign he acknowledged Smoke's _existance_, much less that the commander had said anything.

"Ghost?" Smoke asked warily. He had seen that look before, and it never bode well in the past. "Ya in there?"

Finally the spectre looked up towards Smoke. "Yeah. Just lost in thought for a moment."

"I could tell. Care to share what was on your mind?"

Marshall tapped the pad on the surface of the desk. "Ever have those moments where you think the galaxy is just trying to push your buttons at every turn?"

"Yeah... I guess..." Smoke replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I've been having one of those days, and it just isn't going to get any better." Marshall explained, if vaguely. "Because I have a gut feeling I know _exactly _who is in there calling the shots. Because fuck if this isn't something I'm going to have to deal with over and over and over on this mission of ours."

"Yeah... that doesn't really help me much, buddy."

Marshall then flipped the pad towards Smoke, who nearly dropped it in surprise. Once he secured the device, turned it so that the print was right-side up. He perused the front page, and sighed. "Yeah... of course. You think this is the gal we're going to be dealing with in there?"

"I'd bet my house on it." Marshall replied. "Because that's just how my life works."

"Well, think of it this way, this will be about as close as you're probably going to get to punching Shepard himself in the face. And hell, if one of his old crew deserves it, all the better for your conscience, right?"

"Hadn't thought of it that way." Marshall answered with a tired grin.

Smoke flipped the pad back towards Marshall, who regarded the dossier one more time, and the one word name etched at the top of the file.

_Samara._


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

"We're as ready as we're ever going to be, Major." Marshall announced as his team assembled at the barricade in the massive wall separating the city from the outside world. An armored transport carrier rumbled its presence from behind, bearing a commando unit under Major T'Quel's authority.

The major herself popped her head out of a top hatch. "Alright, Spectre. We're here to lead you in as far as we can. Can't promise how far that will be, and at that point, you're going to be on your own."

"Understood, Major." Brasser answered. "Lead on."

T'Quel pointed towards the gate, and shouted, "Open it up! Move quick and be light on your feet!"

The gate in question was remarkably thick, judging from the grinding sound it made as it pulled upward into a mechanism mounted in the wall. The asari had not been messing around when they wanted to make sure the people inside _stayed _inside.

"Smoke, take position on the left of the transport. I'll hang on the right." Marshall ordered. "Grimes, O'Carter; take the rear. Let our asari friends take the lead, but be ready to move towards other cover until we have a better idea just what our Eclipse friends have waiting for us."

The three acknowledged the orders, taking position at the gate completely cleared, and the procession pushed forward into the walled city.

The gate opened up right into a no-man's land; a half-mile flattening of the terrain along the perimeter of the wall... nothing but a flat carpet of rubble until the edge.

"You seein' this, Ghost?" Smoke asked over the comm.

Marshall hummed in affirmative. "They pounded this stretch clean. That's an interesting development."

Lieutenant Grimes cut in with a question, "Why is that, sir?"

Smoke answered. "Creating a no-man's land is _not _an act of an attacker. It's a very _defensive _strategy, designed to allow easy identification and engagement of approaching hostile forces."

"Eclipse isn't trying to assault the temple. They're trying to hold it." Marshall added.

Grimes, understandably, was confused by what was obviously contradictory information to the briefing she had received. "But... why? What could they possibly gain? They can't possibly expect to hold this position permanently, can they?"

"Perhaps they're just trying to hold it long _enough _for whatever their planning." Marshall said. "Somehow I doubt our asari friends are going to be particularly forthcoming on that score, if they even know what that endgame might be."

"I dunno why you'd think that." Smoke quipped. "They've been nothing but straightforward so far."

"Cut the chatter." Marshall said, his nostrils flaring as the wind shifted, coming across from the city. "They're waiting for us at the zone edge. At least ten... most likely more."

Smoke was silent for a beat. "How'd you find them?"

"It would seem some of Eclipse friends are rather vain about their scent. They're wearing particularly pungent fragrances that were able to carry over the wind. I can smell ten distinct odors."

Smoke chuckled. There was more than one occasion where Marshall's unnaturally heightened senses had gotten their teams out of jams before they even happened. "Should we inform Major T'Quel and her cronies?"

"If they don't already know... I think we should be as forthcoming as they have been." Marshall replied, unable to keep the conspiratorial grin off his face.

"Copy that."

Of course, he couldn't completely leave their asari escorts to walk into an ambush, as perversely satisfying as it might be. "Careful, Major." Marshall finally said as they got within two hundred meters of the edge, where his explanation could seem a bit more plausible. "I think I caught movement at the end of the no-man's land." He drew his Recluse and readied it to see if he could get a visual confirmation, but no such luck. They were keeping their heads down at the moment.

"I don't doubt it." T'Quel answered. "I was expecting as much, really. Be ready for you folks to break towards cover once we get past the zone. We'll give you as much of a distraction as we can so you can all disappear."

"Understood, Major. Thank you."

"Just doing my job, sir."

"Grimes, O'Carter... be ready to move, because you're probably not going to have very long to get into cover. Follow me and stay close."

"Yes, sir!" The pair replied in unison.

The debris under his feet started getting more uneven, and would have been a clue that they were reaching the end of no-man's land. It struck Marshall as even more odd (as if he needed more peculiarities during this mission) that the Eclipse mercs hadn't even tried taking a pot shot while the entire convoy was effectively in the open. They wanted the cover for something... but what?

The answer would soon become clear once the convoy reached the remainder of the city proper, and the human team broke for cover. The entire area became a live fire zone, complete with a missile that listed the transport and crashed it against a tall parking complex at the west side of the road.

Small arms fire pinged in waves against the cover Marshall and his team had taken refuge behind, Smoke, O'Carter, and Grimes returning fire while Marshall confirmed what of their previous scouting was still relevant.

That proved to be little.

Not that Marshall didn't have contingencies planned. Black Ops teams were shit out of luck if they didn't have a Plan B... or a Plan C, or a Plan D, E, F, and G. "They've changed their encryption. Jessie, Seven; I need you to get on this new code and get it cracked ASAP."

"Aye, aye, sir." Jessie answered.

"Chipper, you ready?"

"Aye, aye, sir." The pilot replied, "Depending on how good those anti-aircraft guns are, I can't promise I'll be able to give you a very thorough scan, though."

"Anything is better than nothing, Chipper." Marshall said. "Get moving."

"Yes, sir."

Marshall then updated his team, "The Eclipse knew we had sorted them out. They've got a little birdie inside the Thessia Commandos."

Smoke opened up a burst of fire, and replied, "We kinda figured as much though, right?"

"Yeah... I think I also know why they held off." Marshall continued. "They didn't want to be seen opening up fire on human personnel. Here, inside all the chaos and the sensor scrambling they can have some deniability."

Smoke sighed. "Which means there's a political aspect to all this. Of course. Thessia's holding back for some reason, and Eclipse doesn't want to give them any excuses to come in with full firepower. Blowing us up in broad daylight would be just the excuse Thessia needs."

"That's my theory." Marshall said with a shrug.

"Let's hope we live long enough to find out if that's right or not."

A roar of the Yukon's engines reached a crescendo as the _Iwo Jima's _shuttle zipped by overhead, swerving to avoid the occasional round of AA fire. It disappeared over the tops of the buildings, and a minute of silence was finally followed by Chipper's smug declaration, "Bah. Those guns were nothing. They didn't even _hit _my barrier to see if they even _could _dent it. Want me to find out, Captain?"

"That's a negative, Chipper." Marshall retorted with a hint of amusement. "Just send me what you've got." As a full scan of the city reached his omni-tool, and he began plotting a course through the city. Meanwhile, he was on the comm to the _Iwo Jima_. "Jessie, what's the status of the decryption?"

"We're still working, Captain. It uses a similar coding process as the one they were using before, so it shouldn't take us nearly as long to figure it out. I'd say ten minutes or so? That sound about right, Seven?"

"At our current processing rate, a more precise estimation would be nine minutes, seventeen seconds, rounded down, and exempting a margin of error of forty-three point six-six seconds." Seven corrected.

"Keep me updated." Marshall ordered. Regardless of how long it took, his team really didn't have the time to wait. The advantage of small teams compared to a large group like Eclipse was mobility. There was a lot less required on the four of them to keep moving. The longer they stood in one place put them at a decreasing disadvantage, even _with _an armored transport with still functional weapons.

Fortunately, it didn't take much longer for Marshall to get a course that was as good as any to start with. "Alright, got a path for us." He said to his team. "Sending the waypoints to your HUDs now. Smoke, take the lead. Grimes, O'Carter, fall in behind and stay close."

From there, he was on the comm to Major T'Quel. "Major we've got what we need. Fall back at your leisure."

"Don't have to tell us twice!" T'Quel answered through grit teeth, the sounds of gunfire heavy in the background. "Good luck, Spectre!"

Marshall didn't reply as he took step behind his team. The last thing he ever wanted to count on was luck.

* * *

><p>It became clear that Marshall's first impressions upon entering the city were correct. Eclipse was playing a <em>very <em>defensive game; even now their members were more focused on containing the four humans, trying to keep Marshall's team as far along the perimeter as possible while minimizing risk and casualties.

Marshall had taken a biotic jump up to the upper floors of what was apparently a book depository to try and get a better view of the field, while the others maintained a position on the ground level. They had paused in that building momentarily to see if Eclipse would press the advantage, as the building offered several points of retreat if such push had come.

From his vantage point, Marshall still couldn't get a particularly exact number of the opposing force, but he knew it would have been enough for them to feel confident in an offensive had they desired it. The calculated gamble Marshall took had paid off.

"Captain?" Jessie interrupted. "We've got their comm decrypted again."

"Alright." Marshall said with a sigh of relief. "Let's hear the chatter, Lieutenant."

Jessie ran a feed through the QEC, saying, "This channel seems most pertinent sir. It appears to be between their primary officers."

The next voice was an asari's. She sounded very anxious and uncertain. "The hostiles have settled into Khali's Library. Should we wait for support and move in?"

"Negative." A very regal and distinguished voice answered. "These humans have firepower that would make short work of your barriers and armor. Hold position, and engage with extreme caution only when engaged."

Marshall asked Jessie, "Can we ID this person calling the shots?"

"I can try..." The comm lieutenant said, supplying an answer seconds later. "Thessia databanks confirm the voice belonging to a Justicar Samara."

Marshall growled in annoyance. "I knew it."

In the meantime, Samara spoke again, "Opira, any word yet from Ursa?"

Another asari, a gruffer tone that sounded like she could not be less interested in the battlefront all around her answered, "No. She might still be pinned next to Sederis and not able to make her leave."

Marshall recalled Lieutenant S'Goi during their brief introductions. She apparently was the mole between Eclipse and the outside world.

"Keep trying." Samara ordered, "Until we know more about what Sederis told the humans, I can't afford to let them get any closer."

Marshall was back on the comm to Jessie. "Lieutenant... is there any way you can hack me into Eclipse's communications?"

Jessie hummed in thought. "_That _would be easy enough. I can't promise they'd be able to _understand _you if the translation programs aren't compatible, though. If they can't understand you, they might consider the attempt to be an act of aggression."

"That's a chance I'm willing to take, Jessie. Patch me in."

"Aye aye, sir." After several deep breaths, she added, "You're live, Captain."

And with that, Marshall addressed the Eclipse leader. "Justicar Samara. This is Spectre Marshall Brasser of the NMS Iwo Jima and the Citadel Council. Do you read me?"

A long, unnerving silence followed Marshall's introduction, only broken by Samara's reply. "Yes, I hear you Spectre Brasser. To what reason can I ascribe this communication?"

"I don't know much about this little civil unrest you have here, and I really don't have time to care." Marshall said. "All I need is Councilor Tevos, dead or alive. I get that, and I'm out of your hair."

He cringed at the last word, and even Smoke quipped. "Oh, _that's _a good one. Bring up hair to a legion of bald women. That can't _possibly _end any other way than well."

Another long silence didn't help the thought that Marshall might have inadvertently stepped in it. Finally, Samara's voice broke the ice again, if a shade humored. "Spectre, I would suspect 'out of my fringe' may be more biologically accurate in the future." The hint of amusement vanished with her next words, "As for Councilor Tevos, you can speak to her in person if you must... but I must insist she remain here for the time being."

"Comm isn't going to be good enough, Justicar." Marshall said grimly. He _really _didn't want to have to escalate this.

"I didn't expect it would be." Samara retorted. "A squad of Eclipse mercenaries will step forward on my command. As you haven't been shooting to kill at this point, I suspect you are trustworthy enough to be escorted to the temple. Try not to make any aggressive moves, though. We have all been on edge for several days."

"Understood, Justicar."

The comm went silent, and as promised, seven asari in mostly yellow combat armor stepped forward, pistols and rifles mounted rather than at hand. Marshall jumped back down to the ground level, and filled in his team.

Smoke didn't entirely like it, but he followed Marshall's orders as they took their escort, the Eclipse forming a tight circle around the four humans and taking as direct a path as possible to the temple towering at the city center.


	45. Chapter 45

_Author's Note: Check out my blog (address located within my profile) for a rather important personal announcement!_

**Chapter 45**

Justicar Samara didn't look like one capable of leading a mercenary organization, much less stir them to openly defy a planetary government.

Hell... she looked like she could barely _stand._

Samara was favoring her left leg rather evidently, using a walking stick to offer further support, and for fairly good reason. Her right thigh bore an obviously fresh burn from damn near hip to knee, wrapped and given dutiful first aid, but not much else.

Sensing where his eyes had travelled, Samara said, "Unfortunate mishap while I was in the city getting a personal report from our women in the field. I deemed medigel supplies should be reserved for those _actually _doing the fighting."

"Quite thoughtful of you, Justicar." Marshall noted, locking eyes with her as she motioned for his team's escorts to stand down.

Marshall had never seen an "old" asari. Or a young asari until recently, for that matter. Aethyta was a matriarch, but Marshall never got the feeling she was of particularly advanced years. Samara, on the other hand, struck him with the feeling of nearly a millennia of experience, which was reflected in the lines on her face and hands.

Samara noticed _that _appraisal as well. "I have lived longer than I rightfully should, Spectre. I was nearing the end of my life the last time a human spectre entered my existence, and I am sure the century since has not been kind."

Marshall joked, "Eh, you look better than I will at a thousand, I'm sure." Quickly putting aside any further pleasantries, he said, "Tevos. Where is she?"

"Right to business, are you, Spectre?"

Marshall indifferently shrugged. "Rather not waste time in what amounts to a warzone."

Samara laughed quietly, a rather throaty sound that seemed out of place from what should have emerged from her throat. Again sensing Marshall's curiosity, she explained, "When I first met Commander Shepard, he had roughly twenty questions to ask me despite the fact we were both in an Eclipse hot zone. I think I prefer your more succinct approach."

Smoke really needed to learn to not cringe and hold his breath every time Shepard was invoked in Marshall's earshot. It was getting _really _annoying, _really _fast. However, Samara's answer had brought forward a question Marshall quickly aired. "How did an asari justicar go from fighting Eclipse to leading them, anyway?"

"She's not." A feminine voice grumbled from Marshall's right. "I am... in a sense."

Marshall's head turned towards the source. "Agent Opira Louris, Thessia Intelligence Cooperative."

Opira looked to be a middle-aged asari, notable for the fact that she looked entirely uninterested in the situation, a distant expression like she would rather be anywhere other than here. A unique bar marking her lower lip to her chin was probably her most distinctive feature, something that caught Marshall's attention with every movement of her lips.

"They don't realize I'm the one in command." Opira explained further, "But for all intents and purposes, what I say goes, and they know better than to question me."

She glowered at Marshall and his team as he tried to speak, then sniped, "Didn't you want to see the former councilor and not waste time?"

Marshall wasn't sure if he liked or hated this woman on first impression, but something told him he would be best served if he never had the chance to make a second. "How about you fill us in on exactly what the hell is going on here on the way?"

* * *

><p>"To really understand the situation that's developed, we have to start with the days following the end of the Reaper War." Opira said as the procession passed through the large main doors of the temple, immediately taking a right at the first hall. "Thessia was in shambles, and only become more chaotic as our people returned from the Battle of Earth. With the records on the Citadel and Pompi, the planetary capitol, corrupted at best and completely lost at worst, it gave many asari with... unsavory reputations the chance to meld back into society."<p>

"One such woman was Jona Sederis." Samara added from her position at the rear of the procession. "Although you know her by her alias, Taris T'Quel."

"And who was Major T'Quel before all this?"

"The founder and leader of Eclipse." Opira said simply.

Marshall smirked. "Does your mercenary company know they are fighting their former boss?"

Opira stared at Marshall balefully. "They do. Sederis was... not popular among her employees at the time of her arrest."

Marshall processed that information. "And I assume Sederis is who you are defending this city from? Why? Thessia trying to rid themselves of some ardat-yakshi?"

"While I have no doubt our leaders wouldn't mind this entire city going up in a plume of fire, no. Nor would Sederis want that." Opira corrected. "Sederis's goal is much more personal, which is why it benefits her to keep this entire area in communications blackout."

"And that goal is...?"

Opira stopped and turned half about, staring down Samara in the corner of her eyes. "Why don't you tell them... Justicar?"

Samara did not seem particularly eager to do so, but nonetheless relented. "Jona is looking for her daughter."

"Her daughter is here in this city? Is she an ardat-yakshi then?"

"One of the few in which the trait is manifest, yes." Samara said.

"Now now, Justicar..." Opira said tauntingly, "Don't leave anything out. We _are _speaking to a Council Spectre, after all."

Samara's eyes narrowed. Clearly this was a sore point between the two asari. "Falere... is also _my _sole surviving daughter."

Smoke had held his tongue up until that point, but he couldn't help but stick his oar in at this point. "Now see, this is normally where I would tell Sam to turn off those damn soap operas."

Marshall glared at the commander, effectively silencing Larisa's chuckle of amusement in the process. "Why take interest in her daughter at this point? How old is this girl?"

"Falere is nearing three hundred." Samara admitted. "She and her two now departed daughters were conceived during a... shameful period of my matron years. At that time, Sederis... appealed to me; strong, untamed, and charming in her freedom. It wasn't until I tried to bear children that the illusion started to dispel."

The justicar frowned. "Sederis wanted me to abort Morinth... and instead I had her in secret."

"And yet you admittedly went back to this woman twice more." Marshall noted.

"I was not nearly as strong then as I became when I embraced The Code." Samara replied. "It... wasn't until Falere was born... and that I learned that both Sederis and I had the proclivity to produce ardat-yakshi... that I finally broke away."

Marshall pinched his eyes shut, sensing where this discussion was going. "Sederis never knew that you didn't abort them until recently, did she?"

"She must have _suspected_." Samara said defensively. "But I always came back, and never asked for support... so it might not have bothered her. I am not entirely sure why it's an issue now."

"Sederis had learned Samara was in this city." Opira added. "And that she had a daughter with her. It wouldn't have taken a genius to do the math. What we know is that after learning of this, Major T'Quel asked for a transfer to this post. Shortly after arriving... this 'revolt' began. But the Justicar might have had something to do with _that _as well, am I correct, madam?"

"Jona Sederis is criminally insane." Samara asserted. "She may be playing her current role well, but make no mistake, Spectre, she is a cold blooded killer. I was _not _going to permit her access to Falere."

Marshall could feel a headache forming, the kind that he always got when he sensed stupid piling onto stupid. "Sederis approached you and asked to see her daughter. You refused, and it escalated out of control."

"Samara is fortunate, if fortunate is what you want to call it, that I had been following Sederis and was ready in case she did something rash. Even then, Sederis's first attempt to kidnap Falere was almost successful... and it was a bit of blind luck that Sederis didn't try to push her advantage until after I had called in my... entourage to shore up the city's defenses."

"And setting up our current stalemate." Marshall said.

"I suspect it won't be a stalemate much longer." Opira said grimly. "But I'll let Tevos fill you in on _that_."

* * *

><p>The interior of the temple was dark to begin with, and it got worse as they descended into the underground levels. "These chambers were designed to house ardat-yakshi in case they lost control." Samara said, "Fortunately, they have not had to be used."<p>

"Tevos would probably disagree to that." Opira groused.

At the bottom floor, Opira stopped at the door, then took a position just to its right. "I'm rather the reason Tevos is here at all. She... doesn't particularly want to see me, I suspect."

"You lured her here on false pretenses, I take it?" Marshall concluded.

"Something like that."

The door to the holding pens opened, Samara stepping forward to take the lead. Inside the central pen, shielded by a kinetic barrier was an asari woman sitting on a bench within the cell, that matched the description Marshall had been given in his mission briefing.

"Councilor Tevos, I presume?" He said as the woman stood to address the approaching group.

The former councilor warily eyed the human on the other side of the barrier. "I am she. Must say I'm surprised to see a human face. Who are you, stranger?"

"Spectre Marshall Brasser. I was sent by the Citadel Council."

Tevos sighed in distaste. "So my successors successfully started that up again, did they? Clearly didn't learn our lesson. Human Spectres are nothing but trouble."

Marshall found himself sharing Tevos's dislike. "Had a Palaven colony world developed a viable alternative to relay travel, you'd be talking to a turian right now, councilor." He said diplomatically. "There's nothing more to it than that."

Tevos didn't seem comforted. "Why are you here, Spectre? I was rather enjoying staring at the wall."

"Shepard left Earth a century ago on an undisclosed mission, top secret to Council eyes only. I need to know what he was after and where he went."

Tevos's lips curled distastefully. "Shepard. Of course. Even now, that man makes my life miserable." She sat back down, eyes looking as much through the wall in front of her as at it. "And since it was a classified Council mission, you either need my permission to open it for the current Council, or proof that I am dead, at which point it is declassified."

Marshall almost couldn't believe that he was compelled to defend Shepard, but bit his tongue for the sake of getting to the bottom of this mess. "That's the sum of it."

"Well, if you want the _easiest _path to take, you simply need to leave here and wait two days." Tevos said bitterly. "At that point, with no contact, Thessia will declare me dead, at which point the military won't hold back."

The clearer this picture became, the more Marshall didn't like what he was seeing. "You were brought here to stall for time, weren't you?"

Tevos turned her head back to Marshall. "I quickly discovered as much, yes. And you can tell Agent Louris that if we somehow make it out of this mess alive, that I'll get her back for this."

"I'll pass along that message."

Smoke frowned. "I take it she's not gonna declassify Shepard's mission right now and make it easy for us, huh?"

"I'd rather like to live." Tevos said. "If you can find a way to make that happen, I'd be indebted enough to declassify Shepard's mission for you and the Council that sent you."

Marshall regarded Smoke, and added, "Besides, you know damn well you wouldn't want it any other way. That's not how Black Ops does things."

"Make the impossible possible every day." Smoke quipped, reciting the unofficial motto of their team. "I guess we really couldn't leave all these asari behind to die anyway, right?"

"Hopefully it won't take two days, Councilor." Marshall said. "We'll be back."

"I'll be here, I'm sure."

The group made their leave, returning back to the stairwell and Opira. "Councilor Tevos wants you to know..."

"I heard." Opira grumbled.

Marshall chuckled at the agent's discomfort. "Let's get back topside and break down our options."

Once they returned to the ground level of the temple, however, Marshall wanted to make sure he had the current situation straight.

"So... we're in a bit of a holding pattern at the moment. I'm correct in assuming that it is actually _Sederis _who is responsible for the communications blackout, and not Eclipse?"

"You are correct." Opira said. "She knows that if communications could be made with the outside world that her true identity would be outed, and she'd lose much of what gives her power and influence."

Marshall continued with his assessment, "But at the same time, the lack of communication has started a countdown if you will. If Thessia hasn't heard anything from Councilor Tevos in two days, they will offically declare her dead, and there will be nothing preventing the military from overpowering the defenses here."

"Which Sederis doesn't want as that will effectively insure the death of everyone inside the city, including Falere." Samara said insistently.

"Couldn't we make communication with the Iwo Jima and blow her cover in about ten minutes?" Smoke suggested. "Your QEC isn't capable of being blocked, after all."

"If it was as simple as blowing her cover, Agent Louris would have done that by now." Marshall observed. "She _has _a contact outside, Lieutenant S'Goi, if I remember correctly. But I suspect I know why she hasn't done that. If Sederis's cover is blown, Sederis likely drops off the grid, and forces poor Agent Louris to start all over again."

"Lieutenant S'Goi feeds me information through physical letters that she leaves during her patrols inside the wall... which Eclipse retrieves and forwards to me." Opira said. "It's in everyone's best interest to have Sederis where we know where she is. If she slips out, there's no telling what she will do or when she will strike next."

Smoke then noticed that Marshall had an ever so slight grin. Smoke knew what that meant. "What's your plan, Ghost? You've got something cooking in your head, don't you?"

The grin broadened into a full smile. "Oh, indeed I do. And with any luck, we can end this stalemate without another shot being fired."

* * *

><p>Jona Sederis was a little surprised to hear from Spectre Brasser again. She had <em>hoped <em>that the human and his team's blatant technological advantage would be enough to break the Eclipse line, but that hope had been steadily dwindling as the hours had passed with no contact.

"Major T'Quel, do you copy?"

Jona forced herself to not sound too hopeful. "I read you, Spectre. What is your status?"

"Alive, which is about the best I could hope for, I suppose." Marshall replied. "Can't say the same for the Eclipse leaders."

"They're dead?" Jona asked.

"A handful of officers, and one former Justicar Samara, yes. You asari do _not _go down easily, do you?"

"Justicars are highly trained biotic warriors." Jona said. "I'm actually a bit surprised you survived at all."

That was no lie. Tech advantage or not, Samara, even with the injury that her commandos had reported, was a formidable opponent, and would _not _have surrendered for any reason.

"Well, I'm not as powerless as she probably thought, either. I figure that's the only reason she would have challenged me to one on one combat. Didn't help her though, even _with _the help she wound up getting."

Jona blinked in confusion. Samara would not have accepted aid in single combat; her Justicar's Code would have forbidden it. "What do you mean by help?"

"Hell if it wasn't the strangest thing." Marshall replied. "I had just started to get the upper hand when another asari threw herself between us, screaming at me not to kill her mother."

Jona's heart dropped into her stomach, and she couldn't fight the nervous break in her voice. "What... what did you do?"

Marshall seemed surprised by the question. "What did I _do_? What do you _think _I did, Major? I was in the middle of combat. I put a round through the woman's temple, and finished off Samara. After that, the Eclipse broke up and took off for the outskirts. We could really use some help rounding them up, by the way."

"Oh! Of course!" Jona replied, forcing herself to remain calm and in character, even as she plotted an evil fate for that damned human who had taken her daughter away. "I'll send my commandos in, and join you at the temple. You'll probably need me to identify the casualties, right?"

"Yes, I do." Marshall said. "I sent my team out to find the scrambler Eclipse was using to block communications, but they've had no luck yet."

Jona smiled darkly. This was perfect... the human wouldn't have any support while she exacted her vengeance. "Then I will meet up with you promptly. T'Quel out."


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

Samara still didn't like this scheme one bit, and said as much. She did not like it the first time Spectre Brasser had laid it out, and liked it no better each and every time the human or his companions assured her it was the best course of action.

"I do not believe your captain understands the threat Sederis poses. She is known as the 'Demon of Thessia' for a reason." The Justicar explained.

Smoke rolled his eyes. "The very reason he wants to be alone is _because _he is not underestimating her in the slightest." The commander jerked a thumb back towards the procession behind them, where the population of the temple followed them. "It's also why he wants that temple completely uninhabited until Sederis is put on ice. I don't have time to explain the hows and the whys. Just trust me when I say it's probably for the best that if he and Sederis have to have it out, that it's done where no one else has to get hurt."

* * *

><p>Jona Sederis had not lived seven hundred and ninety years by being stupid. She had developed some damn fine instincts over the centuries, and her every instinct was screaming this wasn't right. There was no blood in the halls, no significant damage, and there would have been both if Samara had fought anyone, much less a spectre of <em>any <em>cut.

Instead, the only sign that the temple hadn't been completely abandoned was Spectre Brasser himself, sitting with his elbows propped onto his knees, his helmet next to his right hip. He looked up at the approaching Asari, stern and emotionless. "Did you think I was stupid... Jona Sederis?"

Jona froze at the invocation of her name, but didn't respond verbally.

"Did you think I wasn't going to figure out what the score was?" He asked, his tone of voice cold, like an ice cube running down the back of her neck. "Did you think I was going to let you have Falere, after you lied and manipulated me and my crew?"

Jona remained silent. She could tell these were rhetorical questions; the spectre not expecting an answer.

"Tell, me, Sederis. What did you _really _want? And don't tell me your daughter. There were a _million _fucking ways you could have played that out that didn't involve you confronting Justicar Samara publicly and led to threats of violence."

Jona shook her head. She wasn't going to play this game. She wasn't going to give him the pleasure of getting her riled up.

"You know what I think?" Marshall said. "I think that it started out innocently enough. I honestly think you spent these last one hundred years thinking you had a clean slate. Eclipse, the carnage you caused... it was all behind you."

"But it wasn't, was it?" He dropped his chin back down onto his hands. "It's _never _really behind you. The damage you did, to those close to you... to yourself... it may heal over, it may scar, but it _never _goes away. And when you saw Justicar Samara, with a daughter, at an age that you knew _had _to be yours as well... that scar ripped open again."

"You needed more than your daughter. You needed to see Samara hurt, humiliated, possibly even killed. You needed _revenge_."

"I know that feeling, Sederis. I spent the better part of a year instigating conflicts in a war that probably didn't even need to be fought because I _needed_ to get back at the people who made me what I am. This path you're on is _not _going to end well."

Marshall stood, picking up his helmet in his right palm. "This_ can _end peacefully. I can help. I'm sure that a lot of this can be smoothed over with some proper influence. You're not going to be a free woman, but it's better than ending up dead and never seeing your daughter's face. Please... work with me here. Drop your weapons, and submit yourself to my custody."

Perhaps it was a sign of the wisdom that comes with age, because Jona found herself seriously considering the offer. There was something... sensible about it. Logical.

But she hadn't gotten to this point by making the sensible, safe choice. She had lived her life taking risks no one else would take, by being just insane enough to make the lunacy work. Yes, her plan was fucking crazy... but fucking crazy was what she did, and she did it well.

"No." Jona finally said. "Sorry... I came into this whole mess with two options, my daughter or death. I'm not changing that plan now. Not for _any _reason. And I'll kill anyone who gets in my way... even a damned Spectre."

"Very well." Marshall answered, moving to put on his helmet before it was knocked out of his hand.

Or, more accurately, Marshall was knocked out of his helmet, by virture of a biotic throw that deposited him ten meters away. Which was then followed up by a slam before he could even get back up to his hands and knees. And if that wasn't enough to make Jona's point, a second throw gave Marshall a very close look at the mural painted east wall of the great hall.

Expecting her foe to have at least sustained a mild concussion, Jona was a bit surprised to see Marshall steadily get to his feet, and turn around, his biotic field absurdly stable (and several magnitudes stronger), his face wearing a malevolent sneer that made even her blood run a shade cold.

"One... last... chance." Marshall said slowly, as if with great effort and heavy emphasis on each word. "Surrender... or... die."

Her answer to that was three rounds from her sidearm, which all were redirected by his barrier. Honestly, Jona hadn't been expecting to do any damage, his barrier was _far _too dense at that point, but to get a feel as to the human's defenses. It wasn't the traditional barrier she was used to, and those shots were to assess the differences and prod for a potential weakness.

Her initial assessment had to be put on hold as Marshall charged; an absurdly fast biotic jump that no human should have been capable of. She was only barely able to dodge the worst of the nova that followed, but the momentary wavering of his barrier due to the attack gave her the opportunity to hit him with a shockwave that again tumbled him off his feet.

Already knowing that the spectre had weapons that could pierce her own barriers like they weren't even there, Jona pressed into close range combat, surprised at how quickly her foe flipped back to his feet to meet her.

Marshall swatted away her first attack, and made a right jab as a counter. Jona managed to stay ahead of the punch, if barely, although she took a knee to her midsection for the trouble, the blow forcing the wind out of her lungs.

Raw instinct kept the damage to a minimum, ducking under a haymaker that would have likely caved her skull in, and giving her an opportunity for a close upper into Marshall's unprotected side, given a little biotic push to increase the impact.

The punch, even with the added force, barely even caused her opponent to flinch, and forced Jona to perform an augmented dodge to evade another knee that would have turned her ribs into something resembling paste had it connected.

But while close combat wasn't ideal, Jona knew she was in an even worse place the moment Marshall drew his sidearm. Her dodge had created some ill-advised distance between the two, and she knew she had to close that distance... quickly. Fortunately, she knew just the trick.

As far as she was aware, Jona was the only one that perfected this particular skill, what amounted to a series of very short, very fast biotic charges that carried little force in and of themselves, and only good for a few meters per jump at most, but at the end, put her right where she needed to be. Marshall had been able to follow the first pair, but the three following dropped her to her opponent's rear, and before he could turn to face her, she had placed a pair of kicks to buckle his knees, and a trip to drop him flat on his back.

Her stomp might have potentially ended the fight, had Marshall not stopped it with both hands and threw her to the ground like he had all the leverage rather than the other way around. As they both rose, Jona figured to try her little trick again, considering how successful it had been the first time.

Her second attempt, however, didn't end quite so positively. Rather than an open flank, she instead found a segment of very sharp steel flashing in the general direction of her face. It was both a combination of reflex, instinct, and blind luck that kept Marshall's sword from doing more damage than nicking the bridge of her nose.

Enraged by the drawing of her own blood, Jona had a surge of adrenal boosted strength, blocking Marshall's next attack by the wrist, momentarily numbing the hand holding his sword with a pinch, then taking the weapon herself and making a slash of her own, scoring a gash across his cheek, up the side of his nose, and to the forehead.

But for the surge that Jona's blood gave her, Marshall's blood gave him an equally violent boost to his already inhuman prowess. She never even _saw _what hit her, what amounted to an open handed slap across the left side of her face, sending stars through her vision and an unhealthy crack to her cheekbone, drawing nasty cuts to the inside of her mouth as it ripped along her teeth, and even knocking three of those teeth loose of her jaw.

The damage was further compounded as her head bounced painfully off the floor; forcing her to make as fast and long of a biotic jump as she possibly could to get some distance and clear her head. As dangerous as the Spectre's weapons could be, staying in close range at that moment would have been paramount to suicide.

Finding cover behind a stone meditation altar, Jona blinked her eyes repeated to clear her vision, and a small dose of medigel for the rest. Peeking around her cover, she saw her opponent, still standing, raw sadistic anger playing across his face... and a wound already closing to a mere slit, like he had taken nothing more than a paper cut.

"Goddess, what are you?" Jona growled in frustration. "A krogan wearing a human's skin?"

Marshall didn't answer with words. His only response was to raise his pistol, and fire twice. Fortunately, the stone was apparently thick enough to prevent whatever penetrating power the sidearm hand, but nonetheless took out a sizable chunk of the stone.

Assessing the situation, she didn't like the conclusions she was reaching. There was little chance of wearing this man down, from the looks of things; and overpowering him was _clearly _out of the question. She needed to do something drastic. Sure... it would probably kill them _both_, but there was an odd comfort in taking him with her.

Jona stood, every last bit of her strength focused into creating the largest singularity she could muster. And even the human would have to admit it was impressive; a gravity well so dense that it was eating up the matter rounds he tried to put into his enemy. Within seconds, he needed to grab a supporting column to keep from being swallowed up... a column that was itself starting to buckle under the singularity's pull.

Jona had missed this feeling, so much so that she had forgotten how good it felt. "One never feels more alive than the moment she is closest to death," Samara's words rung in her ears, back from an earlier time... a more welcome time... where the only responsibility was causing as much mayhem as possible.

Now, this fight was reduced to a battle of wills and physics. Who could hold out the longest? She felt she had the edge. Marshall was far closer to the singularly, where eventually even his stronger biotic field and greater mass would be of little difference.

Which was why the spectre's next move shocked her. Instead of reinforcing his barrier, he instead focused it into a biotic charge...

... Directly into the center of the singularity.

* * *

><p>It felt like the entire world shuddered, and the entire procession Smoke was leading was knocked straight off their feet by the shockwave that hit them, the origin seemingly from the temple.<p>

"What the holy hell was _that_?" The commander said as he regained his feet and adding a head count in his mind to make sure no one was seriously hurt. In the process, he caught sight of the temple.

The entire upper spire had been blown away, parts of it still raining down and the bulk of it now leaning against the temple's perilously standing south exterior wall. What had been the upper three floors had burst outward, and the remaining two dangerously close to collapsing inward.

"Jesus Christ, Ghost... what the hell did you do?" Smoke mumbled to himself.

"That was a biotic explosion." Samara observed. "An extraordinarily powerful biotic explosion."

Smoke had seen Marshall fight more than once, and while the captain was a supposedly prodigal biotic, Smoke had never seen _that _sort of power from his friend before. So, it was with a complete lack of confidence that he said, "Well... I'm sure that was all part of the captain's plan."

A statement which was then followed by the interior walls of the temple collapsing on itself, topping the remains of the spire and what remained of the upper floors into a pile of destruction and rubble.

"I... don't think that was, though." Smoke concluded, steeling his wits and getting a firm grip of his rifle. "Grimes, O'Carter, you're with me. Stay tight and move quick." The commander assumed that Samara and Opira would follow, and they did, the group returning to the temple as quick as their speed could allow.

Smoke didn't like the idea that he might have to finish what Ghost had started, but it was a scenario that he had tried to prepare himself for. He just hoped to God he didn't actually have to go through with it.


	47. Chapter 47

_Author's Note: Taking a short break after this chapter... have an appearance at Ohayocon 2013 in Columbus, Ohio (workin' the MegaTokyo booth again) this coming weekend, and then I kinda gotta put my nose to the grindstone on my actual... REAL writing work._

**Chapter 47**

One thing that Marshall had come to learn over the years was that his Oni had a remarkably good sense of survival... in that he had remarkably good instincts as to just what his physical limits were, and just how much he could live through.

Another thing he had learned was the fine line between being dead and wishing he was.

It felt like every cell in his body protested his movements as he used his left arm to throw the slab of stone from the north wall off his lower body. He would have _liked _to use his right arm as well... had it not been for the minor detail of it being broken in three places. His armor had locked in place, setting the bone so that it could heal properly, which with his physiology would be a couple of days if given proper professional treatment.

Not that his left arm was particularly unscathed. It's fortunate that it wasn't broken too, because the armor there had been damaged so that it wouldn't have been able to lock into a setting... the result of a piece of shrapnel that was currently imbedded an inch deep into his bicep.

With considerable fuss, Marshall was able to pin the piece of metal under his chin, and rip it out. While not normally a smart idea for your average human, for Marshall it was rather a good idea, so that his natural regeneration could heal the gash properly.

Attempting to stand proved something else that he had expected... that the ACL of his right leg had suffered a complete and possibly compound tear. _That _would definitely require expert treatment for proper healing... even the set of his armor and medigel wouldn't be able to completely restore optimal function of that vital ligament.

And he didn't even want to _guess _how many things were broken, torn, or crushed in his right ankle.

At least his left leg was okay... in the sense that it functioned in a minimal capacity. With that, he was able to put the bulk of his weight and hobble from the rubble that had been dumped on his head. Which, coupled from the haze at the corners of his vision, reminded him that he had a nice concussion on top of everything.

Through all the messages of pain that his nervous system was sending to him, he saw a single, torn up, blue asari arm sticking from another mess of stone and metal. Limping over, he grunted as he pushed aside another slab of stone to reveal Jona Sederis... also alive, but likely wishing she wasn't.

However, unlike Marshall, the bent steel beam that was imbedded into her back, and out through her stomach ensured she wasn't going to recover.

With eyes glazed over, half lidded, and wishing for rest, Jona turned her head in Marshall's general direction and said, "You... are insane."

"I've been told that, yes." Marshall replied with a wheezing laugh.

A series of weak coughs escaped Jona's throat. "Do you... have any children, Spectre?"

"Yes."

"What would you do to see your children again?"

Marshall didn't even have to give much thought to that question. "I'd fight through the whole damn galaxy if I had to."

Her left hand slowly moved to a compartment on her leggings. "Samara... was right about me... by the way. I would not have been a good parent. Goddess... I demanded she abort the first pregnancy she had. And you... were right. I wanted Samara to... hurt for all this. But... Falere was _still_... my daughter. I had... to try... right?"

Marshall nodded slowly. "Yeah. I suppose you did."

Finally, Jona got hold of whatever she had been trying to get, clutching it tightly in her fist and slowly holding it out towards Marshall. "I don't... even know if this thing still works... after the beating I took." She explained. "But... if you can give this... to Falere... for me. I don't want her... to go her entire life... never knowing who her father was."

The 'this' in question turned out to be a data module, most assuredly readable by any omni-tool. As his hand touched hers to take the handoff, he was momentarily overwhelmed by a fragment of Sederis's memories... a vision that angered him, and made him realize that Sederis wasn't the only one who apparently thought he was stupid.

"I'll make sure of it... Jona." Marshall promised.

"Good." The asari said. "Now... can you give me mercy?"

Marshall didn't need to ask why. The mortal injury that Jona had sustained was one of probably the most unpleasant ways to die as your internal organs were slowly eaten away by stomach acid. Even with the most sophisticated of treatment, the damage was done, and would be far too late.

"It's the least I can do for causing this mess." Marshall said, having to reach down awkwardly to take his sidearm in his left hand.

"May I find peace in the embrace of the goddess." Jona said to herself, then nodded once to Marshall, who took that as his cue to fire one round into the center of her skull.

That sound prompted another, a panicked call from a familiar voice.

"Ghost? Ghost!"

Marshall allowed himself a smile, and tentatively stood, calling out with all the volume his battered body could muster, "Over here, Smoke!"

Smoke appeared in his line of sight seconds later, followed by Grimes, O'Carter, Opira, and Samara. For a moment, Marshall's ire flared at the sight of the Justicar, but fatigue alone calmed him. He'd have plenty of time for that later.

"Thank God you're here." Marshall said tiredly, "I really didn't want to have to remain conscious much longer."

Which, perhaps prophetically, he promptly surrendered in lieu of a blissful, black, dreamless state.

* * *

><p>When next his conscious mind rose, he found himself in an asari medical ward, and met by a familiar face.<p>

"Ah, Captain. You're awake. Good." Doctor Coyle said, stepping back to allow Marshall to sit up.

Marshall found he had been stripped down to his underwear, a thin bed cloth covering him. Pushing the sheet aside, he rubbed his forehead and asked, "How long have I been out?"

"Thirty-seven hours, give or take," the doctor answered, "Though in the spirit of full disclosure, much of that was spent in intentional coma while we ran you through a hyperbaric healing process." He then snapped his fingers, and said, "Oh. Our asari friends are no doubt going to have some questions about quickly you've healed up. I didn't want to say anything due to potential top-secret restrictions."

"Thanks." Marshall said, his voice not reflecting appreciation.

"Anytime."

Marshall then noticed that since he was only in his undergarments that he was missing several things. "What about-?"

Guessing Marshall's question, Nathan replied, "Your armor and weapons were taken to the _Iwo Jima_, and never had more than a handful of seconds in asari hands."

Marshall shook his head. At this point, any tech they could have gleaned would be common knowledge within two years. "Jona Sederis gave me a data module."

"Ah. Yes... that." Nathan said, nodding. "You were quite insistent it reach the hands of a Falere while you were in a semi-conscious state on the transfer here, I am told. As I understand, Commander Takei took that duty on himself to complete."

"Good." Marshall said, relieved. If Smoke was handling it, Marshall could trust that it would be done right. "And what have you been doing this whole time? Watching over me?"

Nathan shook his head. "Oh, goodness no. I took the opportunity to fill in some of the gaps in the materials the Citadel gave me with the lessons from more experience doctors within this hospital. It was quite a learning experience to be able to pick the brains of people who had personally worked with the physiology types I've only had limited exposure to."

Any further discussion was stalled by the appearance of a tall, thin, asari woman in doctor's dress stepping through the sliding door of the ward, her omni-tool flared to life in front of her with what Marshall presumed was his chart.

"Spectre Brasser." She said with a curt nod. "Doctor Kahli Thanis. I've been the primary physician for your recovery. I have some questions that I'd like you to answer."

Marshall appreciated that she didn't waste time with over extravagant pleasantries. "Well, go ahead then."

With her eyes focused on the chart. "Have you been genetically modified?"

Marshall stared her down even as she didn't meet his gaze. "Yes and no. I was the end result of an extensive selective breeding process that had been going on for at least 40 years. When the scientist in charge had the collection of traits he wanted, he engineered the traits he desired to be dominant."

Kahli finally gave Marshall a short, disbelieving glance. "Hyper-regenerative ability is a recessive trait in humans then?"

Marshall shrugged, "A mutative trait, as I understand. So, yes."

"Your knee checks out with full range of motion." She said blandly, before jumping into her next question, "Do you have any children, Spectre?"

He scowled, not liking her interrogative tone. "I fail to see how that has any relevance to my examination."

Undeterred, she had another question, "Have any of your children you may or may not have displayed any of the traits you have displayed?"

"Again, I fail to see how that is relevant to anything of your concern... Doctor Thanis."

Finally, she gave Marshall a steely glare, her lips tense, and her tone biting. "Your arms have both healed to full functionality, although your ankle may be sore for another hour." After a pause, she returned to the chart, asking, "Are there any others modified in your fashion, Spectre?"

"As far as we are aware, Doctor, Spectre Brasser is the only such specimen." Nathan interjected.

That turned Kahli's cold visage in Nathan's direction. "I do believe you have a clean bill of health, Spectre. Doctor Coyle, I resign him entirely to your care."

Coyle bowed slightly, "Thank you for the hospitality and use of your facilities, Doctor Thanis. We will make our leave swiftly."

Kahli's indifferent huff was her only response as she made her leave. Nathan shook his head, "I could have thought of no fewer than five other doctors who would have been better suited for that question and answer period. So, sticking with the top-secret nature of your... construction?"

Marshall shook his head, "Not really." With a raised voice so that there'd be no doubt that he was aware of the listening devices in the room, "Just didn't like her tone."

"You understand why they're so anxious to know, don't you?" Nathan asked, a question that proved rhetorical when he didn't wait for Marshall's answer. "Military grade genetic modifications, for the most part, are the equivalent of aftermarket work. They extend the abilities of the genome beyond what it can normally handle. The results of that work cannot reliably be passed from parent to child."

Marshall began, "But modifications that are naturally occurring-"

"Very likely _could_ be. And _that _is what has got our asari friends so worked up. It was painfully evident that your genome was not fundamentally changed, and they're nervous about the ramifications. I suspect the Council is as well, judging from their attempts to get to my personal physician notes pertaining to your checkups."

An uneasy silence followed before Nathan coughed, and nervously queried, "So... since you say it's not something you want to keep secret..."

Marshall allowed an amused smirk to creep on his lips. "You want to know yourself, Doctor Coyle?"

The coy expression turned serious, and Nathan leaned back into a rotating chair at the desk behind him. "I knew Heimer Sedin, Captain."

This was news to Marshall, and not exactly pleasant news either. "Did you now?"

"Not well, of course, but there was a time before the Second Civil War that he was a respected and highly prized doctor. Back then, he enjoyed much the same privileges I did. My first year of med school, Heimer taught a course on introductory gene therapy and research that I attended. He was a brilliant mind and an incredible doctor. He had theories on human genetics that were _decades _before his time. He had theorized things that we're just starting to figure out how to do _now_."

A long sigh preceded Nathan's further explanation, "Shortly after the start of the Second Civil War, Heimer... seemed to vanish. He left no explanation to any of his associates in Nimea, no hint that anything significant was about to happen. He simply dropped off the face of the world. No one on our side of Reticuli heard hide or hair of Heimer Sedin until seventeen years ago... when Nimean Black Ops carried home a single teenage boy, carrying all the marks of Heimer's theories and research, from the depths of a top-secret Sedin hive."

Marshall's hands balled into fists, his head down. There really was no way he'd be able to keep it hidden forever, even if he wanted to. "When Kelsey was six, she broke her arm falling from a tree in our back yard. Twenty hours later, you wouldn't have known she had hurt herself at all. Hell, when she was three months old, she bruised... her mother's... index finger just by gripping it."

Nathan nodded solemly.

"But as for the answer you _really _want to know, I'm sure... one of the last things I had to do before I left Reticuli was schedule a surgical procedure for Kelsey to be fitted with a biotic amp. She had been able to handle it unassisted until now, but at the rate her abilities are growing... yeah."

"And I take it its safe to say that your daughter had not been exposed to eezo in-utero?"

Marshall nodded, "Minor exposure, like anyone who lived in a element zero society... but not nearly to the levels needed for that influence to manifest."

Nathan dropped his head into his right hand, and exhaled heavily. "Humans had known, even before the Reaper War, that there was a genetic element to biotic talent. We had no idea what gene sequence actually governed it, if it was something that could be passed down over the generations, or if... it was possible for the talent to manifest entirely through our genetics. We knew that the asari could, of course... but we weren't sure if humans potentially possessed that same trait."

"Well, I suppose now you know." Marshall sensed the doctor's mood. "I can't decide if this is good or bad news for you."

Nathan looked up with a wan smile. "A little bit of both, in all honesty. It's exhilarating to have concrete evidence of one of the greatest problems in human biotic study, but... it's tragic that such discovery came through such despicable means. It hurts to learn that once again human science has advanced due to the actions of morally reprehensible experimentation. I had hoped that we, as a species, were finally better than that."

Marshall shook his head sadly, "The more things change, the more things stay the same, huh?"

"Quite." Nathan replied, letting silence rule for a long moment before asking his next question. "I do hope you don't think I am prying; but... the implant your daughter will be receiving... will it be different than the L9n that you have?"

Marshall shook his head, "I had agreed with the doctor performing the surgery that she will receive one of the new L10 models, probably an n-model considering the fact that her physical abilities will make her best suited for front line work."

"A military grade implant then." Nathan noted.

Marshall confirmed with a nod. "Kelsey wants to be a marine like her mommy. I want her to have the option to do so when she's old enough to make that final decision."

"Well, for what it's worth, it will be a choice she gets to make, and not one made for her."

Marshall agreed, "And for that, I am eternally grateful."


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

Marshall had been momentarily surprised to see the _Iwo Jima _planetside, then reminded himself he'd been recouperating for over a day and a half. It would make sense for the frigate to make a landing and re-supply while they had the chance.

"Which one of you made the call to land?" Marshall asked Smoke as they stepped out of the escort vehicle.

Smoke grinned, "Which one do you think?"

Marshall might have been upset had their been any particular harm. "Is Dani still out in the field, so to speak?"

"Nah. She came back this morning. I guess there wasn't exactly a shortage of asari who were willing to get their action on with the first unsuited quarian any of them had seen in about four centuries or so." Smoke replied, shrugging with indifference. "For what it's worth, _I _authorized the shore leave for her and the crew, not her."

"That's fine, Smoke. We let 'em have some time on Rannoch. Might as well give 'em some photo opportunities on Thessia too."

At that same moment, Ensigns O'Carter and Mayes slid in front of the two senior officers on their way back on board. O'Carter seemed particularly agitated, the reasons for which became clear quickly. "Are you serious?"

Mayes nodded, "The Commander Ma'am and I had a bit of a foursome with a couple very friendly asari. And I'm not talking about golf."

"Unbelievable." O'Carter said, throwing out his arms in disbelief. "Most men dream of seeing two women in action. This superstud here gets _three_!"

"Well... to be fair, the Commander Ma'am is a lesbian."

"That makes it _better_, you fool."

Smoke chuckled softly, "Some folks had a better time of it than others."

Marshall shook his head. "Clearly."

"What about you?" The commander asked, gesturing out past the spaceport. "Doesn't seem fair that you were sleeping while everyone else was having fun."

"Ya know, I think I've seen enough of Thessia to suit me for the time being." Marshall stated. "Thank you for settling the matter of Sederis's data module. We're you also able to secure Tevos's clearance for the pertinent data to Shepard's mission?"

Smoke shook his head. "I _tried_, but she insisted I didn't have the authority, and was only going to hand over that clearance to you."

Marshall frowned. "Of course. After sitting on it for a hundred years, what's thirty-eight hours more?"

Smoke nodded over Marshall's shoulder, "Speaking of devil councilors..."

Marshall had heard the approach of Councilor Tevos, as well as Agent Opira Lourdis. He even heard part of the conversation that they were trying to keep quiet.

"You had said you wanted to get off Thessia." Tevos had said, saccharine sweetness dripping from her voice.

"This was _not _what I meant, and you know it!" Opira hissed. "I'm _not_ going to be some good little soldier for some human captain as they chase the ghost of the most obnoxious hero ever known to Goddess only knows."

Marshall had a sinking feeling he had a message from the Council waiting for him in his quarters; either that or Councilor Tevos was making some very dangerous assumptions.

"You don't have much choice in the matter." Tevos retorted, her fake cheer undaunted at the agent's threats.

"I most certainly do, unless-"

Tevos's voice finally shifted into the angry. "Unless _what_, 'Agent Lourdis'? You've used every last angstrom of political capital you had just to get this far. I'm not the slightest bit intimidated of this shadow of yourself, and any attempt to blackmail me will put you in even _more _hot water than I, and you know it as well as I do."

Opira had gone silent, and Marshall could only imagine the agent was grinding her teeth with barely repressed rage.

"Besides, I did say I was going to get you back for that entire hostage situation." Tevos added, the charm appearing once more. A moment's pause, and a more gentle tone followed. "How about this? You follow these orders to the letter, for once, and I suspect I will be able to procure a small craft for you, equipped with the marvelous FTL drive the Citadel now has schematics for."

_That _perked Opira's interest, "And what's the catch?"

Tevos scoffed. "It gets you out of my crest... for good."

"Then why bother with this entire transfer if the end goal is just to get rid of me?"

The retired councilor then presented yet another new voice inflection, grim seriousness. "Because I've been made privy to the materials that the new Council has put together. I'll let the Spectre brief you more fully, but what I have learned is... of frightening consequence. We need the best Thessia can offer on this."

Marshall had heard _that _sort of line before.

"Fine." Opira nearly spat. "I'll need time to gather my effects."

"Already done and on board." Tevos said dismissively.

If Opira was surprised, she didn't sound like it. "You _really _want me gone, don't you?"

"Oh, yes."

Their banter stopped the moment they entered what would have been a normal human's range of hearing. By the time they reached Marshall, Opira had gone completely silent and left the talking to Tevos.

"Spectre Brasser, I am glad to see you well." Tevos said with regal amiability. "On behalf of all of Thessia, we thank you for you and your crews efforts to restore the peace for the asari people."

"I'll be thankful once you release the details of Commander Shepard's mission to the current council so that I and my crew can get to work." Marshall replied.

That broke the councilor's facade, replaced with a thinly veiled disgust. "Very well. Agent Lourdis, if you may?"

Opira bore an air of haughty indifference as she offered a small datapad, the display bearing a mark for a thumbprint. "To verify that the Councilor has signed off clearance on the information, and that you have authorized its release, Spectre." Opira explained.

Marshall paused before complying. "Does this also confirm your transfer to my authority and the Iwo Jima's mission, or will I have to offer my thumb again?"

If Tevos was startled by the statement, she didn't show it. "The Spectre has astonishingly good ears, it would seem. But no, that won't be necessary. You will find the proper documentation waiting for you on your ship, verified and accepted by the Council. Agent Lourdis is, if unorthodox, the finest agent I can think of. I'm told you are not unfamiliar with such types."

Marshall and Opira exchanged a glance out of the corner of their eyes as Marshall put his thumb were indicated on the pad. "You were told correctly. As long as Agent Lourdis gets the job done and doesn't put my crew in unnecessary harm, I suspect we'll work fine together."

"Good luck, Agent. May the Goddess bless you." Tevos said.

Opira's brows narrowed, and she grumbled, "Hasn't show much blessing yet. Not going to expect _that _to change now." The agent then went up the ramp, and said to herself, "Bet I'm sharing a bunk space too, aren't I? Of course I am. Because it wouldn't be demeaning enough otherwise..."

Ignoring the agent's grousing, Marshall kept his attention on the retired councilor. "Any chance you can give me a quick rundown of what exactly Commander Shepard's mission was so I can get a head start on planning?"

Tevos colored, a surprising display from the asari. With shame, she admitted, "When it came to Commander Shepard... most of the Council took a 'out of sight, out of mind' approach. Tragically, I must admit that I paid little attention to the commander's mission once he left Earth. Councilor Valern was considerably more active, until his death at any rate, and I'm sure his notes are all in impeccable order."

Marshall glowered. It was so wonderful to know the impressions he had been given about Tevos were entirely accurate. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised; it was the ignorant incompetence of the last century's Council that very nearly doomed the galaxy during the Reaper War. Why would he expect that leopard to change its spots now?

"I wish you the best of luck, Spectre." Tevos said with a nod of her head, and a hint of a bow.

Marshall grinned, but one that invoked a feeling those nearby should climb to the top of the nearest tree and hide. "I'll be sure to contact you specifically about anything we find. I'm sure Commander Shepard would have wanted that."

Tevos visibly turned a slightly paler shade of blue. "That... won't be necessary, Spectre. I'm... retired."

The quip had the desired effect at least, as Councilor Tevos didn't spend one second longer in his company. Of course, the moment he thought he had an opening to get the hell off this planet, a figure hovering at the far end of the landing surface reminded him he had one more bone to pick.

Samara stepped forward once it became evident that Marshall had spotted her, as he had began to make strides towards her. Once they met just off the raised section of the pad, Marshall offered a simple, "Justicar."

"Your commander said that you were saying something about me while injured." Samara said, "He said it sounded important. You wouldn't happen to remember what that was about?"

Oh, did he. Marshall tried not to let his voice slip with anger, and was only partially effective. "I didn't like Sederis trying to use me and my crew to do her dirty work... and I _certainly _don't like you using me for _yours_."

Samara played innocent, though her eyes betrayed her. "I beg your pardon?"

"All of this, right from the beginning of Eclipse." Marshall explained. "_You _were the elder asari. Sederis deferred to _you_. Eclipse and the crimes they committed... it was all _your _idea, and _you_ left Sederis holding the bag for all those crimes after you found your Goddess, or whatever you call it."

"I assume Sederis informed you of that?" Samara replied, her features stoic.

Marshall didn't exactly lie. "Yes. She also told me about what _really _happened at that fateful meeting that started this entire fiasco."

_That _made the Justicar's expression crack nervously. "Did she?"

"Oh yes. It wasn't Sederis spotting you and Falere. _You _spotted _her_ on patrol. _You _set up the meeting, and _you _were the one that baited _her _into a violent altercation that started the entire siege... because _you _knew _exactly_ how to get under _her_ skin."

To Samara's credit, when faced with the accusations, she didn't feign indignance or deny them. "It was only a matter of time before Sederis knew I and Falere were in Firoris. And you saw how quickly her mask of sanity fell."

The Justicar added, "I've become to old and weary to fight on my own account. I certainly didn't expect the situation to spiral out of control to such lengths, and I certainly didn't anticipate a human Spectre appearing forty eight hours before the entire city was cleansed of life. Let me assure you, Spectre, this is another guilty burden I will carry through my last days. But, I had to protect my daughter... even if I violated nearly every code of honor I hold dear. What would you do to protect those you love?"

Marshall forced his rage down. He was inherently inclined to take Sederis's side in the matter, due to perspective of being a father himself. Marshall knew that Sederis's change hadn't been a "mask", and that her attempts to rehabilitate had been genuine. He also knew that the only reason Sederis _had _eventually snapped was because Samara had went to great lengths to push every button she could.

But Samara wouldn't have.

"Everything I had to." Marshall said at last. "Believe me, Justicar, I understand that feeling, and it's the only reason you're still standing with an unbroken jaw or worse."

"I appreciate your... restraint, Spectre." Samara said, with a wan, tired smile. "And I thank you for your efforts, even if you may not like how your hand was forced. I've made many regrets in my life. My decision to preserve Falere will never be one of them. I would do it again, even knowing what had happened as a result."

Marshall wanted to argue that sentiment, but he knew he couldn't. Instead, he spun about abruptly, grunted something that might have sounded like a parting, and took long, swift strides up the ramp to the _Iwo Jima_, and back onto familiar territory.

* * *

><p>As much as Marshall knew life was nothing but a million shades of gray, every so often, he wished that things could be more black and white; where there was clearly a right thing and a wrong thing to do, where there was a definitive right action, and a wrong one. Where he could pick a side and stick with it, knowing that he wouldn't go wrong.<p>

His "empathy" made it exceptionally difficult to find such delineation, where a careless touch could open him up to entirely different perspectives on what he had just experienced, much like it had done at the end of his fight with Jona Sederis.

On the trip back to his quarters, he had played through both Jona's and Samara's angles, and in the very definition of tragedy, could not think of how either of them would have been able to play things out differently knowing what they did about the other's past, and little about the other's present.

Dani said something to him as he entered the bridge, but whatever was said apparently was not worth triggering his ear and his full attention. He didn't even give it a reply beyond a nod of acknowledgment before entering his cabin.

A blinking green light on his desk signaled a stored message, but Marshall ignored it for the moment, as he was reasonably certain he already knew what it was. He then dropped a data module he had acquired from his omni-tool that contained combat data from his fight with Sederis onto his desk. It was something he was definitely going to break down in the near future, but again, not a priority at the moment.

Instead he went right to the comm, connecting to the QEC, and to an ID that came by muscle memory at this point.

_"What would you do to see your children again?"_

_ "What would you do to protect those you love?"_

His mind got lost in those two questions to the point that the familiar chirp of "Hi, daddy!" actually spooked him. For a long, quiet moment, he regarded his daughter's face, dismayed at how vivid the projection was, yet how much was missing from it.

But it was enough to remind him that there was, and always would be, one black and white thing in his life. That he would fight until every last drop of his blood spilled from his body, to keep his daughter safe.

And that he would chase even Commander Shepard's ghost straight to hell itself if it meant the galaxy that Kelsey lived in was safer for it.

And that anything that attempted to get in the way of that mission was going to regret the day it had been born.

"Daddy?" Kelsey asked, this time with worry.

Marshall allowed himself a smile. "Hey kiddo." He at last said, "Happy birthday."


	49. Chapter 49

_Author's Note: I initially planned for the latter bit of this chapter to occur later in the story, but came to the conclusion that Matriarch Aethyta would not let something this important linger unsaid, especially with what had just happened on Thessia fresh in their minds._

**Chapter 49**

Hovering in orbit over Thessia for two days was not exactly Marshall's idea of time well spent; but when the Council informed him that Shepard's mission details had not exactly been... well kept... and would take considerable time to locate, sort, and analyze all the data finally declassified; one set of files from Councilor Valern's notes was apparently _only _in hardcopy at that point... heavily degraded hardcopy, for example. As such, the _Iwo Jima's _orders were to hold position until everything could be deciphered properly.

Marshall had been spending the time deciphering the combat data taken from his fight with Sederis with mixed results as far as Smoke could tell. The commander decided to get an update, ignoring the "Live Simulation" warning and stepped into the testing range.

"Live" was a bit of a misnomer at the point Smoke stepped in however; as the simulation was paused, Marshall thoughtfully examining the still frame of Jona Sederis, poised to spring on the attack. Marshall was assessing the video frame by frame.

Smoke quickly figured why when a heavily Orient accented voice spoke up. "Ah, I think I see now. Remarkable. Ah, Ian! A pleasure to see you again, my pupil."

Smoke followed the direction of the voice to a holographic pop up appearing to hover on the periphery of the range. He looked every bit the role of a stereotypical dojo master, complete with wrinkled features, white ghi and black belt. "Ah, Sensei Takashi. A pleasure as always, master." Smoke said in greeting, pressing his hands together and bowing respectfully.

"Sensei" was actually "Captain" in his own right, a commanding officer in the NMS Warfare Program of the Seattle Academy, specializing in close combat. Both Marshall and Smoke had went through his "Three years of hell" program, but Marshall had spent extra time past the program to hone his technique further, becoming the Sensei's star pupil. Takashi was one of the few Nimean biotics; a remnant of the old Cerberus Phantom program, making his training of Marshall even more effective. Sensei Takashi actually _remembered _the Reaper War, and claimed to have fought _and _survived conflict with the legendary Commander Shepard himself.

"I see you are not keeping the Captain out of trouble nearly as much as you should." Takashi teased. "I understand he is going into solo combat with centuries' experienced asari commandos."

"Yah, about that..." Smoke replied unrepentantly, "If NMS expects me to keep him out of trouble, he kinda can't... outrank me and all."

"Sensei," Marshall cut in, "Pleasantries aside, I am curious if you are seeing the same thing I am."

Smoke blinked, "What _are _we supposed to be looking for, anyway?"

"Sederis was doing things that I had never seen before." Marshall explained. "Between the Sensei and I, we are hoping we can figure out _how _Sederis was doing it, and if I can replicate them." With a grim acknowledgment, he added, "Had this been a level playing field... I would have lost this fight. I need to step up and get better."

Smoke shrugged. "Wasn't that kinda the point of your birth, though? That it would never be a level playing field to begin with?"

Marshall shook his head. "I don't like relying on that, Smoke. You should know that by now."

"Marshall is a good student, Ian, not that you'd know anything about that." Takashi jabbed, albeit good-naturedly.

"You wound me, Sensei." Smoke said with a light laugh.

Marshall coughed conspicuously, drawing the attention of the pair. "Any thoughts on the _pertinent _matter, gentlemen?" Sometimes, getting the focus of the people he knew was akin to herding cats.

"My apologies, Marshall." Takashi said. "I do believe I have _some _idea as to what Sederis is doing. Asari commandos have traditionally augmented bursts of movement with a biotic push. They were normally used defensively, however, as means to quickly find cover or dodge attacks. The effectiveness was nominal however, and human biotics found it wasn't worth the drain on their biotic strength."

"Sederis defintely used this as an _offensive _technique, Sensei." Marshall noted, "As I had showed you earlier."

"And therein lies the uniqueness." Takashi replied. "The defensive rush that our ancestors witnessed no doubt didn't have the careful precision Sederis uses. She not only makes that push, she also refined that push to be able to be able to calculate exactly how much was needed to put her specifically where she wanted to be."

The old sensei clearly had command of the simulation as well, as the replay advanced in slowed time to demonstrate his point. "It's _not _a short biotic charge as we both first initially thought. It's a very precise biotic... step... if you will. Or a skip."

"I'd rather not think of myself as skipping... presuming I can replicate this feat." Marshall said. "Do you think it's possible?"

"In theory? Absolutely. The mechanics involved aren't particularly even beyond the limits of human biotics. Our kind merely didn't find the investment worth the results. Your 'pool' of energy should be deep enough that the expenditure would not be taxing." Takashi then added the disclaimer, "However, this is a very precise technique that would require considerable biotic and physical finesse to use effectively... and, Marshall, you have _never _been what I would call a 'finesse' fighter."

Instead of dissuaded, Marshall was challenged, which was no doubt Takashi's intent. "Then I better start learning to be."

The first attempt was cut short however, from a comm from the galley. "Captain? You might want to come up here." Dani said. "I think Matriarch Aethyta and Agent Lourdis are about ready to trade blows."

"What?" Marshall grumbled.

"The Matriarch just tossed _everyone _out of the galley. She won't even let _me _in until the matter is settled, she says."

Marshall ran his left hand through his hair, and said, "Is this a naval vessel or a day care? Please... someone clear this up for me now."

* * *

><p>Marshall wasn't exactly in the brightest of moods when arrived in the galley to separate their newest crew member and their new galley chief, using his authority to override the locks on the galley doors. The altercation hadn't been physical as far as Marshall had been informed, but whatever it was had prompted Aethyta to kick everyone out of the galley save Agent Lourdis.<p>

By the time he had arrived, the two were leaning over the counter, noses nearly touching, lips curled in distaste.

"Play acting?" Opira snarled, "That's _rich _coming from you. I'm not the one pretending to cook food for a living."

"Every single one of my white lies put together still _pale _compared to _one _of your deliberate mistruths." Aethyta retorted.

"Only because I dare _do _something of consequence with my influence."

Marshall coughed loudly to indicate his presence, and once he had grabbed the attention of both asari, he asked, "Is there a problem here, ladies?"

"No." Aethyta replied, staring down Opira out of the corner of her eyes. "It's nothing."

"Yes." Opira agreed. "Nothing."

Marshall snorted his disbelief. "Really? Because when one of my commanders tells me the galley chief has tossed everyone out and I find said galley chief and another member of the crew at each others' throats, that definitely looks like 'something' to me. And since this is _my _ship, those 'somethings' become _my _'somethings.' I trust we're clear on this?"

Opiro set her jaw, and did something she was _not _fond of doing; back down. "It truly _is _nothing, Spectre." She said through clenched teeth. "It's in the past... where it should _stay_." With those words, she offered a flippant salute, and made her leave across the mostly empty galley.

Aethyta exhaled with a low whistle, and said, "That there is a clever girl. Wish I had thought to do what she did."

"What's that?" Marshall asked.

"Made a whole new identity for herself. She was even smart enough to give herself a bastard name. After all, who'd pretend to be a bastard child, right?"

Marshall cocked an eyebrow suspiciously, which Aethyta mistook for curiosity. "Surely you noticed on Thessia how most people had a family name preceded by a singular sound? For example, my daughter's name is Liara T'Soni. The 'T' in her name is in reference to her father's family name... a name that I no longer carry as I am a matriarch."

"Asari without that signifier either don't know their father, or their father wants nothing to do with the daughter and her family. It's a bit of a black mark for young asari... it implies their family isn't good enough for the father or the father is a mongrel not fit to be attached to the mother. Either way, it's not good; and it's a stigma that affects the asari, it limits their opportunities, and who they are allowed to associate with."

Marshall had to admit that he understood how Sederis would have found Samara's ideals appealing with that information. At that same time, it increased Marshall's concern for their newest crew member. He slapped his forehead into his palms, and asked warily, "Please... please tell me we're not about to have a repeat of the Sederis debacle on my ship."

Aethyta couldn't hold back the laugh that escaped her throat. "Oh, no, no... don't worry about that, Spectre. I know this girl personally. She can certainly be cold, calculating, and ruthless... but she's also very sane, and understands the weight of the task at hand, as much as she may pretend she despises everything about this situation."

"So you know her well?"

"It's been a while, and more than the century since the end of the Reaper War at that." Aethyta explained. "Much of what had happened to her was my fault... so I can even understand her bitterness towards me."

Marshall figured he was already this deep into the tale, might as well let the matriarch finish.

"The woman you know as Opira was definitely doing what she knew... she started as a fresh maiden in Thessia Intelligence as a commando attache to some of our agents. I was her direct supervisor. Remember when I said that I had _my _previous commanding officer killed?"

"By coincidence, if I remember correctly." Marshall acknowledged.

Aethyta nodded. "I wasn't exactly lying. At that time, the Genophage of the Krogan was becoming common knowledge, and the asari government was doing their damnedest to detach themselves from the whole controversy. Even as it was happening, it wasn't the most popular action the Council had ever signed off on, you see. _My _commanding officer, a woman named Heni B'Naris had uncovered information connecting several prominent matriarchs to supplying resources and knowledge to the salarians in helping them develop the genophage."

Aethyta's eyes narrowed in regret as she continued. "My commander was prepared to out the matriarchs, as well as their ties to the Thessia government. Needless to say, said government wasn't exactly _thrilled _with that idea. They tasked me with eliminating the threat."

"When a hit is called in Thessia Intelligence, the standard operating procedure is fairly simple. The orders are left in a conspicuous location, and it's up the commandos to decide who makes the hit and when. It gives _everyone _deniability. The issuer in question can claim they never officially made the order, and the commando can claim they were simply following the orders they were given."

A morose sigh prompted the matriarch's further words, "In this case, however, that plan didn't exactly work. Turns out my commander had the support of a young, brash politician who still had her head in the clouds, full of ideals, and thought she could change all of Thessia. By the time she learned better, she had already ripped my team to shreds. You met the girl, actually."

"Have I?"

"Yeah... she calls herself Councilor Tevos now."

"So I have _you_ to thank for turning her into the political dolt she became?"

Aethyta scoffed. "She was _always _dense. The only thing I might have contributed to was her suffocating apathy. It was all I could do to keep _my _job. That girl..." She said, gesturing with her head in the direction Opira had left, "Well, she didn't turn out so lucky. I was so glad _I _still had my head that I really didn't care that she had gotten run out of the agency and blacklisted." She sighed again, and remarked, "Goddess, I was a right bitch back then."

Marshall couldn't help himself. The matriarch might as well have set that one up on a tee. "Back then?"

She poked him in the chest. "Hey. I _was_ a right bitch. _Now_ I'm a bitch for the right reasons."

"A noted distinction." He replied. "Anyway, as much as I appreciate the history lesson, how about we get back to the original point. If Opira Lourdis isn't really her name, then what is?"

Aethyta grumbled, "Normally, I'd tell you it's none of your business, and leave it alone; but as you not the least bit subtly noted, it rather _is _your business at this point. Her real name is Aria T'Loak."

* * *

><p>Marshall figured out where Aria had holed herself up in, mostly because Seven asked Marshall if Agent Lourdis really had the right to throw it out of the Life Support chamber, because it could not find any comparative rank for the agent within the command structure but wasn't sure if that was because the duty roster had yet to be updated. Marshall promised to sort out the problem, and entered Life Support.<p>

"So, is this where the Queen of Omega is holding court?" Marshall asked lightly, smiling as Aria glared daggers at him as she leaned back against a bulkhead. "I do apologize that her majesty must bed with the peasants for the time being, but it really is inappropriate to seize the quarters of the hired help."

"I take it the cook told you." Aria accused, her face radiating indifference as she looked out into space.

Marshall replied, "Your face actually pinged a few times on some Cerberus databases on my home planet. Matriarch Aethyta more confirmed that you aren't about to fly off the handle and try to kill everyone on board."

"I just want to get off Thessia and go back to Omega. If it even still exists."

"Well, I certainly won't get in your way once this job is done." Marshall said. "But a hundred years _is _a long time for a space station to survive on its own with no supply lines."

"I don't know." Aria answered, "At that point, I'll no doubt have an 'anywhere but Thessia' destination."

"I can agree with that sentiment. Only I'd have to add "Rannoch" to that list as well. I figure by the time I'm done here, I'll have reason to hate _every _primary world in the galaxy."

Aria snarked, "I can save you the time. Name a planet, and I can give you a reason why it sucks." She then pushed herself off the bulkhead, and scowled. "A word of advice before you try and get too friendly. I have one rule; don't fuck with me."

"Literally or metaphorically?"

"Both."

Marshall then dropped the playfulness. "Well, I've got one rule you should know too. I know you're used to being in charge, but on this ship, _I'm _in command. When I say, 'jump', you say, 'when do want me to come down, sir?' You do that, and I don't care who you are or where you go when this is all done."

"I've put up with Tevos for the better part of this last century, Spectre. I can't imagine you could _possibly _be worse to work with."

"God, if I _am _more incompetent, I pray someone puts a slug in my skull."

For once, Aria's eyes twinkled with humor. "Is that an order, sir?"

Marshall wasn't sure he wanted to push his luck on that score. "No." After a moment's thought, he added, "I actually _do _have one more rule. Drop the 'Opira Lourdis' shit. I'm not going to judge you on your name, and no one else on this ship better either. You are who you are, and you don't have to play that silly game around me and this crew."

"Well, there. You're _already _more competent than Tevos. You'd have no worries of my gun aimed at your head after all."

"I appreciate that assessment."

The Kelsey VI cut in from the comm, drawing their attention towards the ceiling and the speaker. "Spectre Brasser, you have an urgent communication from the Citadel Council. They have completed their analysis of Commander Shepard's mission and request your presence immediately."

"About time." Marshall and Aria replied simultaneously.

Marshall shared a wan smile and replied to the VI, "Contact Commander Takei and Commander Dani'Arah and have them meet me in the conference room. I'll take the communication there. Inform Lieutenant Dean that she'll have the bridge in the meantime."


	50. Chapter 50

_Author's Note: Wow... up to Chapter 50, huh? And we're just gettin' to the start of the main course._

_Meanwhile, as this is a short chapter... you all get another treat from my Codex! (Been a while since I've done one of these...)_

_CODEX: Reticuli Prime Biotics_

_Even among the general rarity of human biotics, Reticuli Prime had an even lower ratio of gifted individuals, as the colony focused on tech research and development rather than biotic study. What few biotics were located and trained focused on merging tech with biotics for use in combat, as seen in the Cerberus Phantom units and the Alliance's N7 Slayer specialists. Today, Nimean biotics often call back to those early operatives; Sedin biotics are often labeled "Phantoms" and Nimean biotics are code named "Slayers" in official documents._

_Pure "Adepts" on Reticuli are rare, as both Sedin and Nimea encourage their biotics to mesh their biotic training with non-biotic components. _

_Sedin as a rule supplements their talented individuals with training that harkens back to the old Nemesis program; giving their biotics a long range arsenal to complement close quarters biotic combat. _

_Nimea angles their biotics to augment those same close combat talents with heavily armor and heavy weaponry infantry training; making them nigh impervious juggernauts focused on high pressure, aggressive advancing on the battlefield._

_Biotic implants also took a radical change after the Reaper War. After the L5 models, Reticuli implants developed and are numbered differently than the rest of the Galaxy; only changing the model designation with each radical redesign rather than slight improvement of hardware. As such, where Council race implants are numbered as high as L16, the closest comparison on Reticuli Prime would be the recently released L10 line._

_NMRD research was reponsible for developing the "modular" implant design, which allows biotics to "upgrade" the core of their implant with a less invasive, and thus less dangerous, surgical procedure. A "full upgrade" that requires the entire removal and implanting of a new housing and core are usually unnecessary, as a rule only once a decade and only if the biotic absolutely **must **have the minute improvement a full upgrade would provide. The overwhelming majority of Reticulan biotics do not find the procedure worth it._

**Chapter 50**

The entire Council had assembled via two QEC channels, and projected into the center of the _Iwo Jima's _conference room. One the command triumvirate for the ship had taken their seats, the debriefing could begin.

"Greetings, Spectre. Commanders." Sha'ira said in greeting. "Commander Takei, the Council wishes to inform you that we received complaint from Councilor Tevos regarding your abuse of her person."

"Hey!" Smoke protested, "I slipped!"

Dani's clenched her eyes shut. "What did you do, bosh'tet?"

"Honest! I slipped as I was leaving Tevos's office, and I bumped her in the jaw with my elbow! It was an accident!"

Marshall believed this explanation. "Had Smoke meant to pop her one, commando units would _still _be trying to find the rest of her teeth."

Sha'ira grinned. "Shame. I was about to commend you." After a beat, she explained, "Tevos and I don't exactly have much love lost for each other."

Rhaze cut in with a heavy huff. "Considering this mission of Shepard's was so important we opened up the Spectre division again, you seem awfully content wasting more time. It's not like we've had them hovering over Thessia for damn near three days or anything."

The more Marshall interacted with the council, the more he found himself liking the krogan.

Jonas stepped in, "We're dawdling because they aren't entirely sure how to tell you this... but I know you and Commander Takei well enough to know you like your news like I like my coffee; straight with no sugar." But even then, the old chair admiral gave a nervous pause before offering, "Frankly, the information we received told us next to jack shit."

"Really?" Marshall snarked, "From our experience with Tevos, I wouldn't have thought the council at that time would have been anything but dutiful and meticulous with their info."

Sha'ira spoke next. "Councilor Valern's notes had not been well preserved, and degraded so heavily that it thwarted our recovery attempts. Any information Councilors Sparatus might have made had been lost over the last century, and as humanity had not had the opportunity to select a permanent councilor by that first meeting with Shepard, there was no human representation during that critical stage."

Councilor Vael stepped in. "Even worse, any updates Shepard would have made via QEC communication on the Normandy was summarily ignored after Valorn's death three years after Shepard and his crew's departure."

"And the only still living member of the council only recalls 'something about... giants... maybe?' Shocking, I know; Tevos wasn't paying much attention." Rhaze added with the krogan equivalent of a falsetto when relaying the old asari councilor's recollection.

At that point, Councilor Hackett interjected with at least something resembling meat. "We suspect that Councilor Tevos actually heard Commander Shepard refer to 'Leviathan', the apex species that initially created the Reapers before the Reapers turned on them. It was highly top-secret need to know information that a handful of that species had survived up to the last battles of the Reaper War. They didn't physically engage the Reapers, but assisted with scrambling the Reapers control of their lesser units. After the war, they dropped off the grid, and no one has heard hide or hair of them since."

"Could Commander Shepard have been concerned they were a threat?" Marshall asked. "Could they be trying to rebuild the Reapers again?"

Hackett nodded, "Our suspicion is that is indeed the case. From the information left by Admiral Hackett, Shepard did not leave his recruitment of the Leviathan particularly impressed. They had made it clear they were not looking to be allies, only assisting against a common enemy. He could have definitely been worried that with the Reapers out of the picture, that the Leviathan would become a dangerous presence in the galaxy."

"I guess the only way to know for sure is to find whatever is left of Shepard's mission." Marshall concluded. "Any ideas as to how we can go about doing that?"

"_That _is one thing that we _do _have something of substance on." Jonas said, making some gestures to a console in front of him that flashed up a galaxy map. "Commander Shepard had declared that he was going to drop emergency beacons along the route they were going to take... for precisely the reason that we are sending you after him. At least _someone _involved in his mission was thinking ahead."

"I understand that the Needlepoint Drive uses old comm buoys to gather telemetry data for its FTL needles, correct?" Sha'ira said. "Would it be possible for your ship to do the same with the Normandy's beacons?"

"As long as it's transmitting positional data and still has power, I don't see why not." Marshall replied. "I'm not sure they'd be built to last quite like the comm buoys though."

"It's the only lead we have, Spectre." Hackett answered. "We have to hope that it works. This Council will continue to do everything we can to glean more information... but none of us are particularly hopeful."

"The last transmission we have from Shepard to the Citadel stated they were setting a course for Bekenstein, a human colony in the Serpent Nebula close to the former location of the Citadel. It's as good of a place to start as any." Sha'ira offered. "We can only wish you the best of luck, Spectre. Citadel out."

Jonas lingered after the rest of the Council vanished. He sat down at would have been his desk, hands folded in front of his face. "I'm not going to lie to the three of you. We're scared as hell over here. If what we fear is true... the Leviathan would be _more _than capable of rebuilding that ancient menace, and we simply wouldn't have the firepower to resist. As much as Reticuli Prime was untouched by the Crucible's firing... we're just one planet."

"I think it's time NMS gets over themselves and releases our armory tech to the rest of the galaxy." Marshal advised.

Jonas replied, "Already done, believe it or not. The moment we relayed 'hey look, might be Reapers' they dropped every schematic and design we got into the Council's lap. I'll give Admiral Parker credit, he may be a crotchey scunner, but he's got a sound, pragmatic head on his shoulders. He didn't dick us around once the weight of the situation fell."

The old man again looked every bit of his near one hundred years as his head dropped. "I don't know if it will be enough though, especially if the Leviathan had been readying for a new Reaper threat these last hundred years. We don't have a Crucible to turn to at the 11th hour this time, either... nor could we really afford to use it if we did."

Jonas offered a wan smile, "We've been down this sort of road before, haven't we Smoke, Ghost? Nimea pinned our hopes on you and your Black Ops teams to salvage the Oceanic War. I understand you had a lot of pressure dumped on you as well, Commander Dani'Arah. Now you're doing it on a galactic scale. You're the best chance we got of finding a fighting chance."

"Well, we can't let the galaxy down, can we?" Dani said as flippantly as she could manage.

Marshall didn't even try to cover his grimness. "No. We can't."

* * *

><p>Marshall had gotten further contact from the Council asking him to keep aware of other colony worlds on or near the path Shepard had taken. It was quite likely he had tried to do so himself in order to resupply the <em>Normandy<em> on its trip. Special focus was to be made towards "garden worlds" as they could theoretically support civilized life without exterior aid.

Bekenstein was _not _expected to be one of those, as it had been known to have taken a heavy bombardment by the Reapers on their march to the Citadel... and thus Marshall wasn't disappointed when the _Iwo Jima _closed in to find a shell of a world; reduced to rubble and left devoid of anything resembling intelligent life.

To a completely new observer, it would have been obvious which crew members had been brought aboard since Earth, and which ones had been present since the beginning or early days of the ship's journey. One wouldn't have even needed to notice the different uniforms or species... all it would have taken was to see their faces.

For the Earth-moored, this was for the most part their first "up-close" look at a world as the Reapers left it, decimated and no attempts at reconstruction. They were aghast at the desolation, jaws slack, and even the watered and crying eye on occasion. They had known about the damage done by the Reaper War, of course, but for many of the shorter-lived species, they didn't really "know" it. It was a jarring perspective to feel just how small the galaxy had become compared to what it had been just a century ago.

For the "veterans", however, this sort of sight had become old hat, and Marshall wasted no time making that point clear. "You're going to see this sort of sight a shit-ton more than you see anything standing." Marshall said. "Get used to it now, because it's not going to get better further out."

"He's not kidding." Smoke affirmed. "It's why we gotta work damn hard to preserve what little is left."

This was a very crucial moment for their mission, to find out if there even _was _a mission. There were quite a few things that could go wrong. As Marshall had noted to the Council, emergency beacons were not built like communications buoys. They weren't normally built to last (after a couple of weeks at most, it was figured that anyone who would have needed rescuing wouldn't be needing it any longer for good or for ill), and they weren't built with the same sort of range.

On top of that, presuming someone on the _Normandy_ had the foresight to modify their emergency beacons to overcome those limitations... would the beacon respond to a ping from the _Iwo Jima_, and would the _Iwo Jima _even be _able _to receive a response? The Alliance buoys worked because NMRD knew exactly what they had been programming to interact with... the tech than was on board the _Normandy_ by the end of the Reaper War was such an eclectic mess from different species in different parts of the galaxy it was a wonder the iconic frigate could communicate with _itself_. Who knew exactly what tech was being employed in the emergency beacons it tried to use?

"Okay, Dani... are we getting... anything?" Marshall asked.

The quarian eyed him like he had asked a very stupid question. "I'm picking up a lot of 'anythings', captain. This _was _near the heart of galactic society. It would help if I had any sort of idea just what exactly I should be looking for."

"Nothing originating from the Normandy SR-2?"

Dani searched through the list, and shook her head. "No, sir."

Marshall slumped back in his chair. It had been a wild shot in the dark to begin with... the chance that this would have worked was minimal to begin with... he shouldn't be as dejected as he felt.

"Did the Normandy have call numbers? That might be what we'd get from a ping rather than a ship name." Smoke offered with dim hope.

Marshall shook his head. "No. The Normandy SR-2 was a Cerberus ship. It wouldn't have had call numbers..."

His eyes widened in realization. "The SR-2 was a _Cerberus _ship..." His hands quickly flew to the console at his side as he explained. "Ceberus ships had an _alternate _call sign, that they used specifically on their emergency beacons."

Smoke realized what Marshall was getting at. "So that any ships that were responding to an S.O.S. wouldn't know they were helping a Cerberus vessel until it was too late."

Marshall nodded, "If Shepard's crew had used the original beacons that came with the ship, and they hadn't thought that they had an alternate call sign, they wouldn't have changed them."

"So... it's a matter of finding out what that alternate call sign would have been."

Again, Marshall confirmed with a nod. "And I have a pretty good idea where we could find that out."

Seconds later, the voice of a very tired sounding Councilor Hackett drifted over the comm. "Spectre? What can I do for you?"

"I apologize for waking you Councilor, but I think your great-grandfather might have crucial information for the success of our mission."

There was a moment of silence, then Hackett saying warily, "Go on..."

"Did Admiral Hackett or any of his subordinates perhaps make a record of any alternate call signs the Normandy SR-2 had programmed into its software suite?"

"Alternate call signs...?" He asked, followed by a swift slapping sound as he put together what Marshall was getting at. "Right... The SR-2 was a Cerberus vessel, and the Alliance hadn't been able to complete the renovation before the Reapers attacked Earth. And they certainly wouldn't have had time to retrofit the emergency beacons."

His voice quieted as he apparently turned away from the comm. "Give me a moment, and let me see what I can find..." Silenced reigned on the bridge until the Hackett spoke again with an exhausted triumph. "Lieutenant Commander Drayton Epps reported that he had found the call sign 'Argo' programmed into the Normandy SR-2's software suite."

Marshall couldn't help but break out into a broad grin. "Thank you, Councilor. I again apologize for waking you."

"Bah, I was asleep anyway." The councilor answered. "Hackett out."

Dani didn't even need Marshall's order. She had in fact begun the search the moment she got the name they needed. Then with a cheer, she exclaimed, "Whoo! Got one!" She pointed animatedly at the console in front of her, saying, "One emergency beacon from a frigate with the call sign 'Argo' transmitting for 93 years, sir!"

A subdued cheer and soft clapping filtered through the bridge, and even Marshall allowed himself a relieved smile. "Gather telemetry and plot a course, Dani. Chipper... needle when ready."


	51. Chapter 51

_Author's Note: A total aside question... what class was your favorite to play? I personally loved Sentinel, but I'm curious to hear what everyone else ran._

**Chapter 51**

"Captain, can you report to the bridge?" Jessie asked, her voice apologetic as it drifted over the comm. "Chipper says you have to see something."

Marshall froze the Sederis simulation. He loathed interruptions, especially when he was trying to practice, but also knew that his ship meant he had to be always on call. "I'll be there ASAP." He said, saving the simulation's place, and exiting the training range.

Chipper also wasted no time explaining what Marshall had to see the moment he stepped onto the bridge. "This beacon was left planet-side."

Marshall had to admit, based on the experience they had with the beacons the _Normandy _had left earlier, that this was indeed unusual. The others had been left in planetary orbits, where they would have been easily identified.

"Well, I suppose it's fortunate that we have a policy of popping into real space some distance away, huh?" Marshall noted flippantly, although it _was _a remarkable stroke of luck. The _Iwo Jima _was for all intents and purposes in "unexplored space" at this point; areas well off the old Mass Relay transits and where few ships ever had any reason to go. They were largely flying blind, and guided by nothing more than those emergency beacons that they now knew could potentially run them headlong into a planet.

"Could it have been a decaying orbit from the beacon and it fell planet-side?" Marshall then wondered.

Ensign Mayes shook his head. "Not likely, sir. The beacon shows no signs of damage outside of weathering consistent with the atmosphere. It was placed down there intentionally, Captain."

"Life signs?"

"Heavy plant life, but no complex animal life forms, sir. It would be seem to be a world that didn't make that particular evolutionary jump."

"Anything particularly special about the area surrounding the beacon?"

Again Mayes replied in the negative. "Nothing that would seem to stand out. No unusual thermals or readings on any other spectrum."

"The beacon itself doesn't have any further clues?"

"Emergency beacons weren't programmed to give information outside of location and a specific distress, which in this case is a 'prompt extraction required' command. I wish it _was _giving us something more than that."

The explanation made considerable sense. Emergency beacons were largely hardwired, and reprogramming them for specifics would have likely been more trouble than anyone on the _Normandy _would have thought it worth.

Marshall gave it a moment's thought, "Nonetheless, inform Commander Takei, Aria, and Khull to meet me in the shuttle bay. There's _something _down there the crew of the Normandy wanted someone to find. Let's find it."

* * *

><p>Marshall had eventually learned that the asari had labeled this particular planet Aestha 335, a general cataloging number for planets detected but with no prospects for colonization or any other purpose.<p>

It wasn't hard to figure out why. It orbited a late Population I star, and as such lacked many of the heavy metals and eezo that would give it value for advanced life.

This sort of planet was far more common than not, especially the limited development of complex life. The vast majority of planets that meet all the other criteria for life, for one reason or another, stall at varying points in the evolutionary process. In this case, Aestha 335 stopped at what amounted to ferns... though many of those fern plants rose to over ten meters in height, blocking huge swaths of sunlight for anything below; which amounted to a blanket of what resembled clover.

"You brought me down here for _this_?" Aria grumped, as she used the barrel of a submachine gun to push aside the low lying foliage. "To play hide and seek with Shepard a century after the fact?"

"No. I heard that you and Matriarch Aethyta were snarling at each other again lately, so I figured some time off would cool things." Marshall answered. "Keep an eye out for the beacon. We should be coming up on it."

"Yeah." Smoke replied, pointing forward. "Right there."

If Marshall needed further evidence that the beacon had been placed intentionally, the beacon's state would have been it. It had listed a handful of degrees to the north over the years, but had no doubt been placed vertically initially, the ten foot long spear like object still flashing with red lighting at the top end. The chances of such a positioning happening on accident after a degrading orbit re-entry would have been next to nil.

"Alright... whatever Shepard wanted us to find has to be around here somewhere." Marshall declared. "Fan out and send word if you find something unusual."

"A needle in a haystack comes to mind." Smoke noted, even as he made broad sweeps of his rifle through the "clover" field.

Khull's brows slanted, and he said, "I've heard that saying before as I was learning Terran languages. Why a needle, and why is it in a haystack?"

"It's because it's very small, has about the same thickness as a straw of hay, and a haystack is usually quite large." Smoke answered.

"I get _that_." Khull retorted. "But how did such a phrase _originate_? Was someone sewing on top of a haysta-"

A gust of wind through the upper foliage caused a small scatter of pollen to get caught in the current... as well as a very distinct scent to catch Khull's nose. He lifted his head in the direction of the smell, noticing that Marshall's attention had been caught by the same thing. "You smelled that, too, did you?"

"I did."

Aria didn't like the idea that whatever the captain and the yahg had picked up on, she didn't. "What?"

Khull took the lead, Marshall a step behind. The wind stopped, and thus so did the smell, but at that point, the yagh had a good enough sense of the trail that he was able to pick up the scent without wind assistance.

It ended at a cliff edge, where the "clover" had tried to grow around what was now clearly the remains of a body, clad in armor and a pistol laying not even half a meter away next to the partially decayed remains of the body's right hand.

"An M-3 Predator." Aria declared. "That's a century old weapon. But that corpse doesn't look like it's been here a hundred years."

"No insect or animal life." Smoke stated, kneeling down to examine the body more closely. "Without it, decomposition would fall entirely on microorganisms. I don't see any fungal residue, either... and without fungus, that would make decomposition even _slower_. Add in the fact that it's an alien biomass..."

"And on top of that," Smoke said, "This body is from a turian. Dextro based DNA." Smoke plucked one of the "clovers", gave it a sniff, and added, "And I'd bet even money that the life here is levo based. What you are seeing is the work of the bacteria inside the body at work all on its lonesome."

"It could take a long time for it to be broken down." Marshall concluded, kneeling down next to Smoke. The body was in a fairly gruesome state, with several patches of dead flesh still connected to the turian's skeletal structure.

But there was another thing in the air, outside of the smell. A lingering sense in his temples, tingling like a static electric charge. It compelled his hand forward, touching the shoulder plate on the body's armor...

* * *

><p>He was in another time... in another person's eyes.<p>

The man who he presumed was the body's was now vital and standing, though the turian's features seemed gaunt. His eyes were tired, his posture drained. Significant damage to the right mandible, from a wound long ago judging from the scarring, made each jaw movement painful, and that along with the general fugue was probably why his voice sounded as slurred as it was.

"You make it sound like we have a choice in the matter." The turian said, weakly shrugging off the hand that had fallen on his shoulder, the hand that was apparently attached to the eyes that Marshall was witnessing these events through.

"Garrus... you can't!" A feminine voice issued from the memory holder. "Shepard, tell him he's insane!"

The image whipped to the left, where the profile of Commander John Shepard was staring at the turian intensely. "That's why you _really _wanted to come down here, didn't you? You didn't 'see' anything on the sensors, did you?" Shepard deduced.

"I wanted you and Liara down here... to say goodbye." Garrus turned around, his voice regretful. "You know as well as I do that the chances of finding a dextro-based world to resupply is lower than the dirt we're standing on. And you also know that us dextro folks are on survival rations at this point."

Garrus released a tired laugh. "You want to know when I realized it was bad? Two weeks ago when Tali offered me her rations. She said she wasn't hungry. She... she was ready to starve if need be. I can't let that happen. I need to give her the best chance to survive. Let's be honest, Shepard... she means a lot more to you than I do."

"That's not true, Garrus." Shepard replied.

Another laugh, "Then why didn't you invite _me_ up to your cabin late at night? I was _hurt_."

Shepard laughed in spite of himself. "And you're sure there's no other way?"

"I crunched the numbers, Shepard. I did the cold calculus of war. At this rate, with just Tali... your rations could last another two years. That's long enough to pass through another four systems on our course. With both of us, the next system would have to have compatible dextro-based life, or you'd lose us both."

Garrus turned back around, and dropped a hand on both the memory holder and Shepard's shoulders. "You've both meant a lot to me over all these years. I... I can't think of better people to spend these last memories with."

"There's no Shepard without a Vakarian." Shepard recited.

Garrus smiled weakly, "Well, I guess there's gonna have to be." A long morose pause preceded Garrus's next words, "You were going to have to make this decision eventually. You'd be forced to have to make a tough choice. You've had to make too many of those already. Let _me _make this one, okay?"

The memory holder was crying, evidenced by the breaking of her voice, "Garrus... please..."

"Let me do this, Liara." Garrus said softly. "Take comfort in the fact I won't starve to death. I won't let it get that far."

Garrus stepped back, and Shepard guided the memory holder's sight away from Garrus; not that it would have mattered much as the vision had gone blurry from tears. "What do we tell the rest of the crew? They're going to wonder why you didn't come back." Shepard asked.

"Tell them I slipped and fell off this cliff." Garrus replied, "And by the time you could have got to me, it would have been too late."

"They're never going to believe that."

"Entertain a dying man's last wish. They'll understand, Shepard. We all signed onto this knowing we probably weren't coming back. We knew this last ride would be the death of us. It didn't sway us then. It's not going to sway us now."

The mighty Commander Shepard choked up. "Goodbye, Garrus."

"I'll be waiting at the bar up there. Take your time. I can wait."

Then a single shot echoed through the memory holder's ears, and the vision completely went black. Marshall initially thought that was the end of the memory until he heard the woman's voice seconds later.

"This... this is just the start, isn't it?"

Her eyes opened to the blurry image of Shepard's face, his own eyes glossy with tears he was fighting to keep from falling. Regret bled off his voice as he agreed, "Yeah. I'm afraid it is."

* * *

><p>Marshall's consciousness snapped back into the present. He stood silently, his right hand out in front of him as if he had to remind himself it was his. "Garrus Vakarian." He said, dazed. "The body is Garrus Vakarian's."<p>

Khull was skeptical, "And you learned that just from touching it, did you?"

But at that point, Marshall had turned about, shambling away from the corpse like it was detestable and he couldn't be far enough away. Smoke caught up to him in three strides. "You... saw it, didn't you?"

Marshall finally stopped, then turned back towards Garrus's body, and where Khull and Aria were still standing. "They were running out of food fit for dextro consumption. Vakarian took his own life so that the other dextro lifeform on board had a better chance for survival."

That seemed to click in Aria's mind, as she looked back down at the body with a shake of her head. "That sounds like something Vakarian would do. He made my life tough on Omega because of that virtuous streak he had." She then looked back up at Marshall. "You're a natural biotic, aren't you? No wonder Thessia Intelligence was so antsy when you were in ward."

Khull still was lost, "And that has to do with identifying a body by touching it... how?"

"Memory contact is one of the ways that natural biotic talent first manifests itself in a species." Aria explained. "Other ways are a keen ability to predict future events, minor mind-reading, heightened empathy, though those are more rare."

Smoke's own thoughts tingled with the explanation... events in Marshall and his past coming that had seemed like odd chance or coincidence coming together in his mind; peculiar behaviors that he had thought unusual before dismissing them as silly paranoia took on a whole new light.

But now wasn't the time for those thoughts. Especially as Marshall spoke again.

"Take a tissue sample if you want, Khull." The captain said, "In fact, you should anyway. Even if you believed me, the Council would want proper scientific confirmation. While you gather and request that ID... Smoke and Aria can properly mark the remains for Palaven and the turians to retrieve later. It's survived this long. I suspect it'll last another handful of months more."

* * *

><p>Councilor Honoris indeed was more than grateful when the remains were indeed confirmed and the news sent to the Citadel and the Council.<p>

"Garrus Vakarian was one of the greatest heroes of the Reaper War, spectre, and a source of pride for all turians." She said. "He has served as a paragon of what a turian should represent for the last three generations."

Marshall found that amusing, considering how Garrus had been marginalized and largely ignored by his people leading _up _to said war. He didn't _voice _those thoughts, of course; and eventually decided that giving due late was at least better than never giving due at all. "I'm glad that I and the crew of the Iwo Jima could give the turians closure to his fate. It is believed, judging from the state of his body, that he gave his own life so that other members of the Normandy crew could live. It's a death worthy of honor among humans, and I'm sure turians as well."

"It is, and will do wonders as the tale of Garrus Vakarian is told to future generations. I have transmitted the coordinates your crew recorded to Palaven. The first mission of their first operational Needle enabled vessel will be to bring Vakarian's remains home for proper interrment. Thank you, Spectre. Turians everywhere owe you a debt of gratitude."

"Thank you, Councilor."

"Honoris out."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Smoke was absentmindedly polishing the barrel of his rifle. He found the repetitive behavior helped him think, and his thoughts were running rampant.<p>

_A keen ability to predict future events_, Aria had said when describing the precursor to natural inherent biotic ability. There was _no _way that was coincidence. As much as he hated the thought, there were too many things that were coming together, and none of them boded well. About Nimea... about Jonas...

... Or about Alice.

That had been the toughest stumbling block with the epiphany that had dropped on him like an avalanche. Sentimentally, he couldn't _believe _that Alice would be a party to something so... perverse... so manipulative. But as he replayed everything in his mind, logically, he knew that she would have _had _to have been. None of it made sense otherwise.

He had to know once and for all. And he knew exactly who could tell him.

_Author's Note #2: This chapter was real hard for me. Garrus is my bro, ya know? But this was __**definitely **__something he would do, and really fits his character in the end. Sometimes, you know it works the best when it hurts the most._


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52**

Cadet Ian "Smoke" Takei had never seen his roommate visibly emotional in the roughly five months since they had been bunked together at Seattle Academy. Cadet Marshall Brasser had two settings; stoic and grumpy. So to see him visibly frustrated and flustered was a new one.

"I am bigger than you. I am stronger than you. I am faster than you." Marshall stated gruffly. "Yet you manage to dodge every blow I attempt."

Smoke didn't even realize that there was a witness to the sparring match until said witness spoke, "I told ya, Cadet. It's not the size of the dog in the fight; it's the size of the fight in the dog."

Smoke followed the sound to it's source; Chair Admiral Jonas Moss. The Admiral had been hovering around Marshall since he had been recovered from a Sedin hive half a year ago... and even more so lately. It seemed odd that someone so high up the chain of command would have interest in a group of outcast cadets, but Marshall was indeed a unique individual, at least in terms of physical prowess. NMS had invested quite a lot of resources prying Marshall away from Sedin, no doubt... he was likely being closely watched by _several _brass.

His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of the final person in the hall. "He's used to winning, and can't understand how he could lose." Cadet Alice Meredy said with a playful tease, pulling off her helmet and swishing her shoulder length blonde hair free.

"I haven't lost anything." Marshal insisted. "And once I figure out your trick, you will in short order."

"God, are you _always_ so serious?" Alice said with a heavy sigh. "Always about 'winning' or 'losing'... never about having 'fun' or 'enjoying yourself.' You _really _want to know how I'm doing this?"

"Yes."

Alice smiled again, "I can see the future."

Smoke rolled his eyes. Not this shit again...

"The future." Marshall deadpanned.

"Yep." Alice said, throwing her arms around Marshall's neck, who reacted to the contact as much as a support column would. "I know exactly where you're going to attack, and I make sure I'm not there when it happens. It's also how I know that we're going to be married one day, and our first child will be a girl. We're gonna name her Kelsey."

Marshall considered this information with nothing short of cold dismissal. "Is that right?"

"Yep. Which is why you should just give up now and take me to dinner tonight."

"Or, it's become obvious to me that you have an extra sensory perception that allows your subconscious mind to process details about the world around you that your conscious mind misses." Marshall surmised, "It manifests as an instinctual response that allows you to anticipate events as they unfold. The rest is pure unmitigated bullshit."

Alice exaggerated a sigh, "It takes the fun out of it when you make it so scientific and logical." She then used the index finger of her right hand, tapping him on the shoulder, and said, "Now, about that dinner..."

Smoke finally interjected, yanking Alice away from her quarry; perhaps more roughly than he should have. But he honestly was about as tired of his childhood friend's behavior as Marshall was at this point. "Alice, knock it off. You know he doesn't like it when you act like that."

She had spent damn near from the moment she and Marshall had met plastered all over the Sedin orphan. It was peculiar in ways that Smoke couldn't wrap his mind around. Maybe it was the consequence of puberty, but he had _never _pictured Alice as been so brashly wanton. It was disturbing.

Alice scoffed as she shrugged out of Smoke's grasp, glaring at him. "Oh, come off it, Smoke. I'm just playing, and Brasser knows it, right Ma-"

She had turned back to discover that Marshall had taken that moment where the attention was off him to make a disappearance, so subtly that not even Smoke had realized that he had retreated. "Where'd that little bugger go?" Alice muttered. "I swear, that guy's like a ghost." She then snapped her fingers, and chirped. "That's it! That's his name. Ghost."

Alice had that habit of giving nicknames to every person she knew for as long as she could talk. It's why _everyone _called him "Smoke" now, after Alice had saw him smoking a joint with his father when he was twelve in Nirvana, and eventually shared that nickname with the _entire year's class_.

That had actually been a step up from the _first _nickname Alice had given him. "Dog-breath."

"I'm just... can you _please_ cool it? He _doesn't _think you're joking around. It annoys him." Smoke advised.

At the time, Smoke had thought Alice was just looking over his shoulder into space, contemplating his advice. Now... he suspected something different; because in retrospect, something, or more accurately _someone_, else had been in that general direction.

Chair Admiral Jonas Moss.

* * *

><p>Smoke threw himself down at the chair at his desk, and slammed the comm command through heavy drops of his fingers.<p>

Kelsey VI informed sweetly, "I am sorry, Commander Takei, but Councilor Moss is currently unavailable."

"_Make _him available." Smoke said. "Inform him it's urgent."

"High-Priority request sent, Commander."

It took slightly more than a minute, but Jonas eventually did flash onto Smoke's comm. "Ah, Ian. Sorry about the block there... turns out all this political stuff gets tiring. Every so often I unplug from it all and pretend I'm doing something important. You... look troubled. Is something the matter?"

"Just bear with me for a moment, because I need to go a _long _way back. About twenty years. When Sedin hit the Nirvana Collective."

Smoke wasn't one for trips down memory lane all too often. He had a general policy of live, learn, and don't look back. So it was understandable that Jonas didn't know what to make of the line of conversation. "You called me to... reminisce?"

"As I said, bear with me." Smoke replied, holding up a hand in warding as he gathered his thoughts again. "Ya know, I had always heard the explanation, and it made sense, but now... as I think back on it... it sure seems like the Black Ops team you sent there got more than a 'tip.' You knew _exactly _where Sedin was going to hit, and you knew _exactly _who they were targeting, didn't you? Like... a thirteen-year-old girl who had shown signs of pre-cognition."

It was a bit hard to tell due to the holographic projection, but Smoke was certain Jonas had blanched. His reply was also a shade bit on the guilty side. "Oh. That."

"That's all you have to say?" Smoke growled.

Jonas now understood the gravity of this discussion. "Yes, you are correct, Smoke. We had known that Alice specifically was one of the Sedin Ops team's targets. One of three within the collective to be exact. When Andrei Farha escaped Sedin with his daughter, he carried with him information that his deceased wife had collected about Heimer Sedin's 'special project.'"

"Marshall." Smoke interjected.

Jonas took a heavy, reluctant breath. "Yes. Heimer had become extraordinarily interested in introducing 'natural' biotics into the human genome, humans that could develop biotic talent without dangerous eezo exposure, and with that creating a line of 'perfect soldiers' that could pass their latent gifts over generations. Marshall was the first generation of the culmination of that project that he started after the Second Civil War."

"Alice had that precursor ability that Heimer desired, and sought her out to be a potential mate for Marshall."

"Yes." Jonas admitted. "For what it's worth, Smoke... the official explanation wasn't exactly a lie. We _did _get rather lucky. Between Gretchen Farha's stolen notes, and our own counter-intelligence, we had several prospects, and Heimer's goons happened to hit one we had been watching. But, yes, our intel was _much _stronger than we've let even NMS brass believe."

Now it was time to get into the meat of the matter that _really _hurt. "Well, since you're being so open and honest, let's test that, shall we? It wasn't coincidence that Marshall and I were bunked together at Seattle, was it?"

"No." Jonas acknowledged.

"Because you knew that with the two of us in the same barracks it gave Alice convenient reason to throw herself at Marshall at every available opportunity." Smoke surmised.

Jonas held up a warning hand. "I think I can see where you're going with this, Smoke. And hold up. If you're worried, no one in NMS forced Alice to join the Marines, and none of us forced her to try and get smarmy with Marshall. It was a confluence of events that the O-9 Board thought we could... mold to our favor."

"Did you order Alice to seduce Marshall?" Smoke finally accused.

Jonas stumbled over his next words, nervousness that the former Admiral rarely ever displayed. "Well... not so much _my _order, Smoke. There really wasn't any _official _orders made..."

"Don't bullshit me anymore!" Smoke bellowed. "_You _were the Chair Admiral, Jonas. The buck stopped with _you_! _You _were the one hanging around us as cadets like some perverted old man! _You _were the one that was so damn happy when they got married! _You _were the one that damn near drowned the pair in gifts and bonuses when Alice revealed she was pregnant!"

Smoke reigned in his fury long enough to grind out in a softer volume. "One last time. Did you order Alice to seduce Marshall?"

Jonas dropped his head, and said with guilt. "In short? Yes. In more specifics, I and the O-9 Board approached Alice with the information we had found, and asked her if she would be willing to follow the course of action we had laid out. It wasn't officially an order... but I suppose for a young cadet fresh to the corps, it might as well have been."

Smoke dropped his head into his hands, more so that Jonas couldn't see the moisture building in his eyes. "Does Marshall know?"

Jonas shrugged, "If he does, he hasn't said anything about it."

"And what about Kelsey?" Smoke accused. "I have to say, it seems _awfully _convenient that he _happened _to go off-planet into _deep space_ the very year his daughter was set to enroll for secondary academy in Seattle."

_That _rose Jonas's dander, and replaced the guilt with defensive anger, "Now you wait just one minute, Smoke..."

"No! I'm done waiting." Smoke retorted. "How much should I bet that if Marshall were to look up Kelsey's enrollment data that he'd discover her to be on the fast track to Spec Ops?"

"Yes!" Jonas shouted back, "Because that's where her talents would be best utilized!"

Smoke's sarcastic sneer replied, "How very... convenient... for you and NMS."

"You drop that tone this instant, Commander!" Jonas replied with a warning finger. "I am _not _Heimer Sedin, and this is _not _the Sedin Republican Guard!"

"I'm not sure I believe that anymore, to be quite honest." Smoke said darkly before raising his voice. "I _defended _you! For _years_, whenever Marshall would get down and accuse you and NMS as being no better than Sedin, I _defended you_! And now, I've finally realized he was right all fucking along! You were just as driven to get your next generation of super soldiers as Heimer was... you just happened to get all the coincidences in your favor so that you didn't have to be overt about your schemes!"

Again, the guilt appeared on Jonas's face. "Smoke-"

"Don't call me that again." Smoke interrupted crossly. "From now on, it's Commander Takei."

He stood up, finger on the disconnect button. "And you can tell the O-9 Board that if I get back to Reticuli Prime, that they can consider my resignation on their desk the moment my feet touch down... Councilor."

With that, Smoke killed the comm, and prepared to leave his cabin, intentionally ignoring the trill of Jonas's call-back. He had somewhere else he needed to be.

* * *

><p>Marshall answered his cabin door before Smoke could even request entry. "Ghost... how did you...?"<p>

"Jonas just commed me. Told me you would probably be coming, and that you were 'incensed' as he put it. Get it here."

As Smoke complied, he said, "I don't know _how _you can still talk to that man."

"Oh dear. How deep did he drive his foot into his throat this time?" Marshall quipped.

The captain was in an astonishingly bright mood, which made it _really _hard for Smoke to broach the topic he knew he had to say. "Listen... Ghost... I learned something tonight. Something about Alice... that I think you really need to know."

Marshall's eyes narrowed warily and he took a seat on his bed. "Go on."

Smoke joined him at the edge of the bed, looking down at his hands nervously. "Did you know that when we all met as cadets... that Alice... well..."

"Was ordered to get in my pants?" Marshall finished.

Smoke looked up, surprised. "You... knew?"

Marshall shrugged, "A... she came clean about six months after we met. You mean to tell me you didn't notice that I refused to be within twenty meters of her for the rest of the year unless I was forced to?"

Smoke chortled, "Yeah, no offense, but you pretty much described your attitude around _anyone _for that first year. Sorry I didn't catch the subtle difference."

Marshall laughed, "That's... probably true, come to think of it."

The sound was a stark reminder of how far Marshall had come over the years. Smoke's little memory jaunt had reminded him how Marshall used to _never _laugh. "So... then what did you and Alice mean to each other? And why didn't you tell _me _about NMS's whole scheme?"

Marshall was not _nearly _as bothered by this as Smoke was. Although if that was legitimate unconcern or simply a matter of years of coming to terms with it all was unclear. "What? Afraid I was in some sort of loveless marriage with the sole purpose of breeding a small regiment of wonder kids?"

"Kinda." Smoke admitted sheepishly.

Marshall now looked _amused _by this entire discussion. "No... she... was being used by authority just as much as I was. That tends to breed a common ground, and from there came genuine affection. I could feel for her... being valued not because of anything you particularly accomplished, but because of some latent gift. Our feelings were genuine... it's really hard to disguise such things between people that have an empathic sense."

"As for why we didn't tell you..." Now Marshall looked uncomfortable, "You... well... you had this image in your head of NMS being this noble organization that stood for something more than its own self interests. We didn't want to ruin that for you."

"And what about Kelsey? Aren't you worried about what they'd do to her?"

Marshall nodded, "Just about every damn day. But right now, NMS would have to conspire to keep her _out _of the marine corps. If Kelsey ever changes her mind, then yeah, I'll fight the whole damn world if I need to. But right now, her desires match with what NMS wants. I guess it could be worse, right? She wants to do what... her mom did."

Smoke prodded Marshall, both verbally and with a poke to his shoulder, "Ya know, Ghost... it could probably help if you'd be able to say Alice's _name_, for chrissake."

Marshall shook his head. "I can't. I... when I try, I start thinking. And when I start thinking I... damn it." The captain shook his head rapidly, as if doing so would jar the memories out of his brain. This time, however, Marshall let something out. "She... she should have known what was going to happen. She could _predict _those sort of things. She had that sense. Why didn't she... why did she let that happen?"

To be honest, it was something Smoke had wondered himself. It didn't help that he had only seen the aftermath, and none of the actual events that had transpired. "Well, I had thought that perhaps the Oni was so unpredictable that... she couldn't?"

Marshall shook his head. "The Oni is in fact _distressingly _predictable. It's based on instinctual reaction, after all. Anyone who could process what I was doing quickly enough could break down what I was about to do very easily. Someone like... her."

At that point, Smoke stayed quiet. This was the most Marshall had _ever _opened up about the Day After Affair. He didn't want to ruin it.

With a nimble movement of his left boot, Marshall kicked a case out from under his bed near the foot. It drew Smoke's attention, remarkable in that it was entirely _un_remarkable. A simple black firearm case, pistol sized, with "Commander Alice Brasser" etched in gold on the front cover.

Smoke leaned down to pick it up. "Is this...?"

"Grace." Marshall confirmed. "Her favorite sidearm. A modified Retinizer-4 heavy pistol. She... had it willed to me, apparently with instructions to have it customized to me... upon her death."

Smoke popped open the clasps, and opened the case, confirming that it was indeed the pistol that Alice had nicknamed and considered her lucky gun. "Alice _loved _her Ret-4, man. I sometimes thought she married _it _and not _you_." Smoke then noticed a small layer of dust just inside the formed grooves where the weapon laid. "You've... never touched it, have you?"

Marshall shook his head, and Smoke quickly understood why. Alice would have carried that sidearm into her last mission. It's connection to her would carry her last memories, something that Marshall's contact memory would lock into... forcing him to relieve that entire tragedy from her eyes.

"I brought it with me... because I promised myself once this mission was over, that I'd confront what she saw. And that I'd finally be able to put it behind me. Jonas was right about one thing before we left. I've been stuck in this... stasis. I have to gain the courage to move on."

Smoke closed the case again, and slapped Marshall on the back. "You will. In your own time." Smoke froze, remembering that Jonas had said that as well. "I was... pretty unnecessarily harsh to him, wasn't I?"

"No." Marshall replied simply. "He was a manipulative, scheming fiend. In many way he still is. But I think his heart is in the right place. Maybe."

"Then I probably shouldn't have told him that I was resigning my commission after this mission, huh?"

Marshall's soft expression turned into a glare. "What?"

Smoke cringed. "I was angry." He said, adding a nervous grin.

"Are you _trying _to destroy your potential Spectre nomination? I swear, you are so self-destructive that I think you do it on purpose."

Smoke boggled. "Wait. What? Me?"

"With the division re-opened, I had been tasked with assessing potential candidates to expand the roster." Marshall explained. "Obviously, you were the first person I thought of."

Smoke wasn't sure what to think of that. He honestly hadn't even considered the possibility. Marshall was unique. A prodigy. Smoke, well... wasn't. He started to say something, then decided to try and deflect the conversation away from himself. "I... well... wow. Anyone else stand out? Or are you not allowed to say?"

Marshall shrugged. "You. Dani. Khull. Seven, if I felt the Council would be able to consider a geth spectre."

Smoke had to laugh at that. "That... would be pretty damn epic." Smoke held out his hands like he was holding a pistol and said, "My calculations assess there is a 17.3% probability that I have expended the battery within my armament. Do you suspect you will be fortunate, miscreant?"

Marshall shook his head, chuckling, "I shouldn't be laughing at this."

The humor faded swiftly, and Smoke figured that was as good of a time as any to make his leave. He _did _have some things to smooth over. Returning Alice's pistol back under Marshall's bed, he pushed himself up. "Night, Ghost."

"Night, Smoke. Make nice with Jonas, then hit the sack."

"Aye aye, sir."


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53**

Ensign Mayes's normally upbeat tone dropped into somber. "Captain, sir... we've... found another one." He said, clarifying after he was worried the implication was vague, "Another beacon... on a planetary surface."

Not that Mayes needed that extrapolation. There were some things you only needed to see once to notice a pattern. Another of Shepard's crew had been laid to rest down below.

"What's the status of the surrounding area?"

Mayes assessed the sensor readings. "Nothing resembling civilization, though there is a fairly high degree of animal life, judging from heat signatures. The beacon itself is in an open area though, so even if any of it was aggressive, you'd no doubt have plenty of warning."

Dani turned from her station, and asked, "Captain, permission to be a part of the retrieval team. Especially if... it is who I think it is."

Marshall had thought the same thing, honestly. While the _Iwo Jima _was able to confirm that a dextro food supply could have potentially been found on the _Normandy's _path (the fact that it had indeed been one system away had not gone unnoticed), Doctor Coyle had presented the possibility that considering dwindling health supplies would have put several crew at risk, and thus next on the list of those to... pass away.

Like a quarian admiral with barely anything resembling an immune system and running out of ways to keep an aging suit functional.

"Permission granted. Seven, you'll join us." Marshall ordered, knowing the geth was no doubt monitoring the bridge. Not intentionally, of course. Geth don't intentionally infiltrate.

That had been an interesting explanation, as Seven had not been carefully choosing words, it turned out. The geth were in a perpetual state of data gathering. That wasn't terribly different than organic life (as organic brains did the exact same thing)... but the geth did not have the mental filters that strained out superfluous input, nor did organic brains have the instantaneous and accurate storage of the geth memory. Given a proper prompt, Seven could recall entire conversations that he had no intention or any desire to overhear.

On top of that, their means of gathering data weren't limited to the normal five senses. Anything transmitted wirelessly (like ship communications) was caught in the same net and stored away. It wasn't something Seven, or any geth for that matter, had any control over; and a source of frustration for the geth on the _Iwo Jima_, as it did not like eavesdropping, intentionally or not.

It was also something that the geth as a collective were working to fix. Newly discovered individuality had prompted a desire for privacy, which they could not get with the way geth platforms were designed. Several fixes had been proposed... but the one that would most likely work was the one that was the most unnerving for them.

Geth were a "software" based lifeform. Any fixes made to the platforms they operated on wouldn't help them if they transferred to another platform. And Seven likened software changes to changing an organic person's "soul." What would the end result of that be?

The rumination was interrupted by Seven's response, "Understood, Brasser-Spectre."

"Meet me in the bay in five. Smoke, you have the bridge."

* * *

><p>This time, the beacon wasn't particularly hard to find. It was clear the location had been plotted out ahead of time, with the beacon standing again, straight up and buried in the firm clay just at the edge of a beach of bright blue water before it turned into untamed rainforest. It was a veritable tropical paradise, an eye catching panorama that caused Dani and Marshall to miss the headstone directly in front of the beacon. It was Seven's unfiltered sight that caught it and drew the pair's attention.<p>

The headstone itself was wholly unremarkable. The two gleaming pieces of metal that were imbedded into the stone halfway along it's length; enough to keep them from going anywhere, but not enough that they could not be identified for what they were.

Alliance dog tags.

Marshall knelt down to get as close of a look as he can, to the side of the now obvious, if slight, bulge that was commonplace with a burial plot. "Well, I don't think I'll have to touch anything for identification purposes here. Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau."

"The Normandy's primary pilot, according to Systems Alliance records." Seven informed. "He was afflicted with Vrolik Syndrome, a genetic bone degenerative disease."

"And one of the high risk crew that Doctor Coyle identified. It was a cocktail of medical supplements and physical therapy that had kept him alive, supplies that the Normandy would have eventually run dry on." Marshall said, eyes transfixed on the tags. "When those ran out, all it would have taken was a trip or fall or simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time... and a fatal injury would have resulted."

Dani exhaled sharply, fogging her contamination mask momentarily. "As cold as this may sound, I'm relieved that it wasn't who I thought it was." As Marshall turned in her direction, she amended, "It's because burial would be a _very _improper interment for a quarian of the Flotilla, especially an Admiral. It would be a mockery to bury her on soil that was not of the homeworld."

"Oh, really? And what _should _the Normandy do with a dead quarian body, may I ask?" Marshall asked.

"The body is prepared with flammable materials, then incinerated, usually in the heat of the ships drive core, then expelled into space, where it can join the cosmic dust and be free to one day be a part of another planet that would be a home to someone else." Dani informed. "It is a very sacred ritual, and my people would have been _very _disappointed to learn that one of our most revered admirals had been buried in a hole in the dirt-"

She stopped sharply when she realized Marshall was no longer paying attention to her. The captain's hand had settled on the headstone, fingers resting over the dog tags, his eyes closed. "Hey!" Dani shouted, "I was talking to you!"

"I suspect Brasser-Spectre is engaged in a state of contact memory." Seven explained, "His behavior is consistent with that on Aestha 335, both from landing team reports and video recording of the discovery of Garrus Vakarian's remains."

Dani huffed and crossed her arms. "Still awfully rude. Why is he even doing that touch thing anyway? We already _know _who it is."

Marshall couldn't have explained why at the time he felt the beckon of said contact memory. It wasn't something he had learned to question. There was _something _of great significance lingering in the memories of this place. Once he found out, however...

Marshall head whipped upward to the forest line, as he could now hear the approaching chittering of what he had seen in the memories of the past. "_Rachni_!" He bellowed, drawing his rifle, and firing a single shot that stirred a flock of avians as well as the telltale dying screech of the arachnid species.

"Rachni?" Dani yelped before her jaw set in angered determination as she picked up on the sounds as well. "Spiders. Of course. The first away mission I'm on in forever, and it _has _to be _spiders_."

Seven fired the next shot, another bullseye delivered with mechanical precision from a secondary Recluse that Marshall had in the armory. Rather ironic that a weapon named after a spider was being used to hole spiders.

The advancing flank burst out of the forest line, five in number, mere workers from Marshall's estimation. It was peculiar to see such a crude attack... the briefing he had received on the rachni as part of his preparations to leave Reticuli Prime noted that rachni tactics were more often than not very elaborate and demonstrated genius level strategy and intellect.

Even if that still had been accurate, it paled in the face of an enraged quarian specialist with a very mean-spirited intent and a matter round shotgun.

"Hate! Hate! _Hate spiders_!" Dani screeched, filling one rachni with a load of matter shot before it could even raise its mandibles or sharpened front legs. She then jumped onto the back of another one and fired another round that ripped through its exoskeleton and caused it to drop lifelessly.

Two others turned to face what was now appearing to be the greater threat, to learn the error of their ways for the rest of their lives, all two seconds of them, as they were expertly sniped down by a pair of nigh simultaneous shots from Marshall and Seven.

The fifth was the one that decided that wherever it had come from was infinitely better than where it was attempting to go. Not that Dani was going to let the creature turn tail. With a surprisingly nimble pounce, Dani tackled the fleeing rachni, jumping to her feet, and unloading several rounds into its thorax.

The quarian only stopped when Marshall dropped a hand on her shoulder, and said soothingly, "Dani... Dani... I think you got it."

"Hate spiders." She chanted, but at least refrained from firing again.

Seven offered in explanation, "While Rannoch has no insect life, it _does _have 4,816 documented species of arachnid; of which 3,996 are documented to have some degree of aggressive behavior. In addition, 3,629 are documented as poisonous; 184 capable of delivering lethal doses with a single bite."

"Hate... spiders." Dani summarized.

Marshall was then surprised that there was more activity in the forest, only because he had no clue of such until it spoke in a graveled whine.

"Aww, you didn't leave any for me."

Marshall certainly was not expecting a male krogan to emerge from the dense forest, much less one in battered off-white combat armor and carrying a thick tree branch marred with dried blood as a club. The krogan ignored the weapons trained on him, lumbering towards an overturned root and dropping heavily into a seated position.

"Gotta admit, wasn't expecting to be seeing signs of civilization anytime soon. Your little arrival spooked the pack of rachni I was hunting." The krogan said conversationally, either ignoring the threatening weapons trained on him, or not caring. "Figured I'd try and kill two birds with one stone. Don't worry, that should be the last of 'em. Without their queen, they can't breed, so it was simply a matter of letting time and age and me thin their numbers."

He then gestured to Joker's grave, and said, "Although, I am a bit interested about what you think you're gonna be doing with Joker there. He was a friend and crew mate of mine, so I'd be careful just how you answer that."

Marshall lowered his sidearm. "I'm Spectre Marshall Brasser, this is Commander Dani'Arah, and Infiltrator Platform 709. We're following the path of Commander Shepard on business from the Citadel."

"A quarian and a geth." The krogan nodded, "Gotta say, I'm surprised to see that." He hastily corrected, "Not the two of them together. Had a geth and quarian friend myself. More that the geth are supposed to be bye-bye after the Crucible went kablooey."

"Some limited numbers survived the discharge." Seven said.

Marshall spoke again, "Now you know who we are. Who are you?"

The krogan picked his teeth with one fingernail before answering, "The name is Urdnot Grunt. I've been watching and keeping Joker's grave. So again, whattya want with him?"

Marshall then realized Grunt was the krogan in the memories he had witnessed, holding off the rachni attack during the memorial the crew had held for Lieutenant Moreau. "As I mentioned, we're following the path Commander Shepard left on his mission. Nothing more. We have no particular interest in upsetting Lieutenant Moreau's remains, although I suspect the Citadel would be interested in returning them home."

"Shepard's mission?" Grunt said. "The Leviathan things?"

"Yes." Marshall replied. Grunt would have as good of an idea as anyone they had met, and also confirmed that the Leviathan was what Shepard had been concerned about. "How much had Shepard discovered before you parted ways?"

"Not much that I understood." Grunt admitted. "I knew the background stuff that Shepard had told me, but he must have told the Council about them too. Beyond that, I didn't particularly care to know. I figured anything that was terribly technical would go over my head."

"What about the rachni queen? You said she was dead?"

"Yeah." Grunt nodded. "Found her remains about oh... fifty years ago. Couldn't tell you how she died. Didn't look like she had been attacked. As far as I can tell, she just plopped down dead. Didn't make much sense even to me, because as you've seen, a rachni can live for at least a century, maybe more."

That _was _quite peculiar, and not something that Marshall was keen to leave unanswered. Rachni queen eggs could survive vacuum conditions, and the fully grown queens were known to thrive on some of the most hostile conditions in the galaxy. They didn't just drop dead for no reason. Marshall was getting that tingle in the back of his head that he usually got when he had a gut feeling.

"Can you show me the queen's body? Or what's left of it?"

Grunt grinned, "Sure. Can't say there's much to see at this point, though."

* * *

><p>Grunt hadn't been joking when they came upon the site of the dead queen three hours later, in a patch of forest so dense that Chipper had absolutely no ability to ferry them there faster.<p>

All that was left of the rachni queen was the exoskeleton and soil consistent with compost. Fortunately, a century had blown away the smell.

Marshall approached the head of the carapace, it was brittle to the touch at that point, crumbling under his fingers, and prompting him to be more careful with further contact. As he had expected, strong memories lingered here. He could almost taste the energy in the air.

"What's he doing?" Grunt asked, the krogan's voice sounding like it was a hundred meters away, although he couldn't have been more than ten. It was a sign that the memories were taking hold, and soon Marshall's vision shifted with it.

Marshall was the rachni queen, holding a spherical object between her front legs, a stone of what looked like onyx rippling with energy. The queen dropped said stone the moment a large burst of sound from the sky interrupted her thoughts.

A titanic, Reaper-like creature had entered the atmosphere in a slow descent, its eyes boring down on the queen. A telepathic voice rung through her ears.

_We allowed your species to live, even after you failed us. Now you attempt to meddle with powers beyond your understanding. You are no longer useful. Die._

The vision ended abruptly, jolting Marshall back to himself. Recalling the memory he had seen, he followed with his eyes where he recalled the object had rolled after the queen had dropped it. Realizing that such an attempt would likely be futile, he asked Grunt, "Do you recall seeing a black, perfectly round stone around here?"

Grunt thought about this, then nodded, "Yeah! Over here!"

Grunt moved towards the north, in the general direction that Marshall had looked. After a minute rummaging around, the krogan said, "Here!"

When the others followed, it was indeed what Marshall had seen the rachni queen holding, although it had suffered a large crack on the surface, most likely from the fall.

Grunt said, "Funny thing. I remembered it because it looked just like the stone Shepard had. His wasn't all beat up, though."

That caused Marshall to turn his head towards Grunt in a wide-eyed glare of astonishment. "Commander Shepard had one of these things?"

Grunt nodded, "Yeah. Although he kept it behind heavy shielding. Guess it could be dangerous if left out in the open. He'd occasionally poke and prod at it during the mission, then come back with our next destination."

It quickly fell into place from there. _That's _what Shepard had been doing. _That's _how he had known where to go. Marshall had no doubt that these 'stones' were the orbs that had been spoken of in the resource material on the Leviathan that Marshall had received. Shepard had been using their own technology to track and follow them.

That revelation didn't answer _everything_, of course; for example, what exactly did Shepard think his little frigate could do to a highly advanced creature potentially billions of years old? But the picture was a lot clearer than it had been before.

The captain's thoughts were interrupted by Grunt. The krogan was rubbing the back of his head nervously, and his voice was uncertain as he asked, "Hey, I just met you... and I know it sounds crazy... but... can I have ride home?"


	54. Chapter 54

_Author's Note: A couple things here... you may notice that this chapter is considerably longer than the others. It's that I've kinda noticed that I'm on Chapter #54 at this point, and that 200+ chapters at this rate is ENTIRELY in the realm of the possible._

_So, rather than bite sized chunks, I'm experimenting with chapters that are closer to the length I use in my novel format. Feel free to let me know which you prefer._

_Author's Note 2: I amuse myself with the idea of Chipper's voice being done by Tara Strong... hence the MLP and Teen Titans jokes you may identify in this particular chapter._

**Chapter 54**

Alliance and Cerberus databases from before the Reaper War had quite a bit to say about the krogan homeworld of Tuchanka. Current intelligence from the Citadel Council had confirmed that little had changed.

Personal observation proved those assessments correct. Tuchanka was a dry, arid and rocky planet filled with creatures that woke up every morning and said, "I think I'll kill the world today", to which the world replied, "Not if I kill you first."

"Yep. My idea of a perfectly safe drop zone. Surrounded by a circle of a hundred krogan." Chipper remarked. "Because it's not like the species is known for violence and destructive tendencies or anything."

Chipper's new-found bravery was clearly still a work in progress.

"At least you're going to have a half-meter of titanium protecting you." Lieutenant Hermin Rhab stated with a glare in Marshall's direction. "I might as well be chum getting thrown to sharks."

"Awww, it won't be that bad." Grunt replied even as he smiled with saccharine sweetness, "A lot of grudges got put aside when a salarian by the name of Mordin Solus gave his life to cure the genophage. I fought side by side with _several _STG operatives during the Battle of London. We know any salarian from there was on our side."

"I still think my presence is for no reason than to torment me." Hermin said, not taking his baleful eye off of Marshall.

"What?" Marshall answered innocently, "I remember you being quite displeased when you weren't taken planetside on Thessia to counsel me on potential legal avenues to negotiating the crisis. I'm just taking your advice!"

"By putting me in the middle of a swarm of krogan..." Then with a glance to the final occupant of the shuttle, "... and a yahg. Yeah, I think you really want to see just how high the salarian blood pressure goes."

Marshall shrugged with a grin. "Well... that too."

Khull draped a friendly arm over the salarian's shoulders, which wound up looking more like a python getting ready to squeeze it's victim's neck. "Don't worry, JAG." Khull said gently, "If any krogan tries to hurt you, they're going to have to go through me first."

Hermin took that with all the comfort it deserved; none. "Really?" The military lawyer said flatly.

Khull feigned hurt. "Of course! Trust me, my amphibian friend, if _anyone _in this galaxy is going to eat you, it's going to be me."

"Words cannot express how comforting of a sentiment that is." Hermin deadpanned, eyes straight ahead.

Marshall allowed a chuckle to escape. As much as Khull was teasing, that's really all it was. The yahg and the salarian actually _had _developed a... Marshall didn't want to say "friendly"... but at least a non-combative rapport bordering on respect. It helped considerably as Khull learned just how divided the Salarian people had been even during the first uplifting of the krogan that started the long slippery slope that led to the genophage and dragging the yahg into the galactic scene biting and rending.

Marshall had been surprised by the division himself. The Reaper War and its culmination on Earth had actually served as the excuse a good quarter of the population needed to sever all ties with Sur'Kesh and Dalatress Linron's leadership.

The Salarian Tasks Group (having grown increasingly displeased being used to cover up messes rather than finding practical solutions to them) deserted almost to a man and accepting the authority of Councilor Valern as they joined the hostilities. Damn near every salarian that wasn't on Sur'Kesh followed; renouncing the Dalatress's authority and began doing whatever they could to assist in the war effort. By the time of the Crucible's discharge, Sur'Kesh was an island in the galaxy, refusing communication and not having communication accepted in return.

"Okay." Chipper said as the shuttle jerked to a stop. "We're here. Please exit promptly so that I can get somewhere else."

Marshall began to stand, but Grunt jumped to his feet and imposed himself at the door. "Best let me go first." The krogan said. "I'm the one they're here for, and krogan don't like waiting."

Marshall conceded the honor with, "Be my guest then."

With a hearty laugh, Grunt manually yanked open the shuttle door, earning him a scowl and a beratement from Chipper, "Jesus, easy on the equipment, ya brute!"

Her admonishment, however, was lost on the reverberating, bellowing, deep bass cheer from outside, the result of over one hundred krogan voices howling in unison. Marshall shared Chipper's concern that the mob was going to charge the shuttle, but that fear proved to be misplaced as only one krogan stepped forward from the circle they had formed.

It was a much older specimen, evident by the heavy, tall hump, heavily scarred face, and equally scarred blood red combat armor. But despite the advanced age, there was still vitality and strength in those old bones. There had to be. Nothing survived on Tuchanka otherwise.

He and Grunt must have known each other, unless _all _krogan greeting involved a handshake, several hearty claps on the shoulder, and loud laughter. "Urdnot Grunt!" The old krogan cheered, "When that ol' shaman told me that some humans had found you and were bringing you home, I put together the finest welcoming feast I could in the time allowed." A guiding hand fell on Grunt's back, and he said, "Come! A lot has changed in the last century."

"I'm glad I'm finally able to see it." Grunt stated. "And where's Aralakh Company? They better not have gotten soft while I was away!"

"Like I'd let 'em." The elder krogan said, as if mildly insulted. He then turned his head towards the shuttle, and said, "Alright, get on out here. There's a dinner to be had, and I don't want to wait for it!"

"Do as the nice krogan asks, please." Chipper said, her voice drifting out of the open shuttle door, earning another raucous laugh from the welcoming party.

Marshall grinned, knowing that Chipper wanted to get off this rock as soon as she could, and exactly how he could thwart that desire. He departed next, the older krogan stepping forward to meet him. "Spectre Marshall Brasser..."

"Yeah, I know. Anyone with QEC access would probably know who you are at this point. " The krogan answered, waving off too formal of a meeting. "Urdnot Wrex, chieftain of the Urdnot clan, and as a result, chieftain of Tuchanka. You are also invited to the feast... as I suspect you and I have business to discuss."

In a hushed tone, he whispered, "_Reaper_ related business, I suspect."

Marshall tried to keep his expression neutral. He had not gotten _any _indication from the Citadel that Urdnot Wrex even _knew_ about Marshall's mission, much less anything that the krogan could add. Pushing that thought aside, he turned to more pressing matters. "May some of my other crew attend this gathering?"

"Certainly." Wrex replied warmly, "As long as it doesn't take forever to drag them down here. I don't like waiting for my meals."

Marshall allowed himself a conspiring grin. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. Just the crew I brought with me in this shuttle."

Wrex wasn't sure what was on the human's mind, but figured it was worth playing along. "Then they are _all _invited! As my guests!"

That was exactly what Marshall wanted to hear. "You heard the guy. Everyone out!"

Khull exited next. He had only needed the order to disembark, because he was right at the door from the moment Marshall had jumped out, his massive frame blocking all other view inside. Wrex had allowed everyone off if for no reason than to get a look at this unknown specimen.

And Khull did not disappoint. If there was _any _reason for the yagh to finally show his first hint of fear, it was while being surrounded by a mob of some of the most resilient, tough, and aggressive sentient beings in the galaxy.

And Khull didn't even blink. "So, this is the krogan that I had heard so much about. I can't say I'm impressed." Perhaps it helped that the yagh even dwarfed the already large krogan frame by a good head in height and a good two shoulder lengths.

"And this is the yagh the salarians uplifted to hunt us." Wrex retorted, following that up with a response customary to his people, a headbutt that landed squarely on Khull's chest. As the yagh stumbled backwards two steps, the old krogan added, "And you should be impressed. I'm the toughest son of a bitch you've-"

The boast was cut off as Khull had regained his bearings and retaliated, with a double handed axe blow to Wrex's shoulder, driving the krogan down to one knee with the impact.

Chipper apparently had cameras on the developing scene. "Khull, for God's sake, could you try to _not _get us all killed?"

Marshall meanwhile hadn't even let his smile slip. "At ease, Chipper. This is just how they say hello."

Wrex confirmed this when he popped back up with a laugh. "Hah! I like this guy!"

Khull's reponse was an extremely non-committal grunt, not giving away whether he shared the sentiment or that the krogan numbers was the only reason the altercation hadn't escalated further.

"Alright, Lieutenant Rhab. Get out here!"

"As your designated attorney, I'd advise you not to rile up our hosts." The salarian answered, but didn't present any significant hesitation as he appeared in the doorway, and hopped down onto Tuchanka soil.

Hermin knew better than to worry that his life was in danger at any point. The krogan were trying _very _hard to prove they were a civilized people who could be trusted as part of the greater galactic community. Ruining it by attacking a C-Sec certified spectre support personnel would run rather contrary to that goal.

"No one told us you were bringing an entree!" Wrex chortled. "Although, I suppose as scrawny as that one is he'd be just an appetizer."

"I see that the krogan wit is as sharp and biting as ever."

Wrex moved with swiftness that belied both his size and his age, sliding over to Hermin's side. "Aww, don't be like that. If you're here, that means you're from the stock that grew a quad and actually fought for the galaxy rather than tricked someone else into fighting for them. You're alright."

Wrex then slapped Hermin playfully on the back. Of course, a playful slap to a krogan might as well have been from a jackhammer, and considering the slight salarian frame, it had the effect of sandblasting a cracker. Hermin stumbled nearly three meters after contact, and needed Marshall to catch him before Tuchanka kissed the JAG on the chin.

As he squared away Hermin, Marshall made one last call out to the shuttle. _This _was the payoff he was looking for. "Alright, Chipper. Your turn. Shut 'er down and get out here."

There was a long beat before Chipper's catatonic reply. "What?"

"You heard me." Marshall repeated. "Get out of there and join us."

"You. Are. Shitting. Me." The pilot said, enunciating every word.

Marshall pretended to aggrieved by Chipper's stalling. "Lieutenant Dean, you have been invited to dinner by these fine people. Proper courtesy _demands _you accept their generous offer."

Wrex joined in the fun quickly. "Aww, come on, Lieutenant! We don't bite! Hard. And only if you want us to! Some humans are into that sort of thing, I'm told!"

"Power down the Yukon, and let's go, Lieutenant!" Marshall ordered. "You just heard how the chieftain here hates waiting for his meal."

The shuttle's hum then died, and the craft descended the few centimeters and settling on the dusty landing pad. "I hate you." Chipper said with a grumble. "Sir."

And finally the pilot revealed herself to a krogan crowd that abruptly went awestruck, those who didn't have a good line of sight crowding in to see what all the fuss was about before agreeing that the view was quite remarkable.

Chipper was even more unnerved by the silence than the earlier noise. Nervously taking steps forward, she found the krogan taking equally nervous steps backward, all except for Urdnot Wrex, who dashed around behind her, then wrenching her foward as she attempted to turn to face him. "What are you..." the pilot began, only to turn to a screech when she felt the old krogan's calloused fingers dive into her hair. "_What in the..._?"

"Your hair is like the fresh fallen snow of the High Basin." Wrex said in wonder. "What do you do to get this remarkable color?"

Chipper's pupils dilated in terror. "I... I... nothing... that's just... my... color... of my... hair... oh God... help me."

"It's like magic... like the white down of a bird emerging from the darkness." Wrex waxed with what was the closest to poetic most krogan get.

"A krogan is pawing through my hair." Chipper squeaked frightfully, as Wrex's fingers were indeed starting to weave quite enthusiastically through the snowy, shoulder length locks. "This is _not _okay... this is _not okay_..."

* * *

><p>Urdnot Bakara had a few choice words, and a thump on the temple, for Wrex's behavior when the chief brought Marshall and his party to the grand hall of Urdnot for Grunt's homecoming. "Wrex... you didn't..." She had said when being introduced and witnessing Chipper's cringe, which had prompted said thump.<p>

"It was pretty." Was Wrex's feeble defense.

"Lieutenant, albinism is exceeding rare among the krogan, the vibrant white hasn't been seen among our people since before the genophage." Bakara explained gently.

"I'm _not _albino." Chipper protested meekly. "It's just my hair."

"I understand, child. But a white-born among the krogan is a sign that line is to be blessed. Chieftains had been overturned by the presence of the vibrant white among another family. It is something the krogan honor to the point of worship."

The context at least eased Chipper's fears, though not her nerves. "Well... considering that white hair could get me burned at the stake pre-spaceflight Earth, I supposed being worshiped for it is a step up."

"That's the spirit of a krogan talking; find the best in what is around you." Bakara said with a polite laugh. "Now, let us attend to the festivities, because there _is _important business to attend to, and it is best to conduct business with a krogan when they have a full stomach."

There was a preconception to the krogan that carried over to the preconception of how they ate; a stereotype that proved both true and false. The dinner was indeed rowdy and loud with alcohol flowing like water between them. But the fare was balanced, with considerable amount of vegetable matter mixed in with the meat, and when krogan ate, it was very carefully, making sure they didn't drop or otherwise use food for any purpose other than going in their mouths. "Krogan are omnivorous by nature. The slow recovery of our homeworld has allowed us opportunity to expand our diet slightly to what it once was." Bakara had explained. "But we also know that resources are still fairly scarce. So we cannot waste."

There was also more than a small share of roughhousing, especially with a return of a lauded warrior, which meant such aggression was not only welcome, but implicitly encouraged.

Much to Khull's chagrin, as he had to brush off one challenge roughly every fifteen seconds. Marshall noted this, and asked, "Why don't you entertain yourself a little? I doubt anyone here is going to challenge you to do the death."

All eight of the yagh's eyes narrowed. "Combat is not entertainment. Battle is not fun. It is a necessity, not to be taken lightly or as sport. I do not play-fight, I outgrew such behavior many years ago. I do not trade blows unless I have full intent to kill. And I kill for a reason, not simply because I can. This is senseless, meaningless violence that serves no purpose than to encourage more senseless, meaningless violence. I will not take part in it."

"I bet you're real fun at parties." Bakara snarked, but her good-natured teasing was evident for what it was. "I can't say I wholly disagree. Krogan can go..." Her train of thought was derailed as Grunt drove another krogan through an empty table and left a large crack in the floor. "Overboard."

On the other side of Bakara, Chipper and Hermin were dealing with annoyances of an entirely different manner. The salarian, despite all assurances that he was safe, remained on careful alert for any potential threat, and Chipper was trying _very _hard to ignore the handful of krogan children who had been enraptured by her hair. She was thankful that she had cut it two days ago, as all the kids could do at this point was brush the lower edge at her shoulders rather than get a good handful.

"Okay, I know this probably isn't the best time for small talk, but we haven't had a good time to just have a one on one. I have to know... how did a salarian fighter pilot become a JAG?"

"Early onset mono-chromaticism." Hermin answered. "Color-blindness is a natural course of the salarian aging process, but sometimes it occurs much earlier; roughly one out of every one thousand salarians have the disorder. By the time I was twenty-two, I lost all ability to distinguish color... a problem that is even more pronounced at night."

Hermin paused to take a bite of what resembled a lettuce leaf, and said, "Always had a keen memory, however, as well as a good sense of how to turn regulations to my advantage. Made me a natural lawyer."

"Do you miss flying?"

"Oh certainly. But I have definitely made a name for myself within the military court structure. I can't say I have too many regrets. Especially since I now know that I wasn't particularly all that special in the pilot's seat."

Chipper wondered what could have led him to reach that conclusion. "Oh?"

"You honestly have no idea your talent, do you, Lieutenant Dean?" Hermin remarked. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Humanity has never exactly allowed female pilots to flourish, a cultural stigma that I have never been able to comprehend. I've perused your dossier, Lieutenant. It's frankly amazing."

Chipper blushed. "I wouldn't say that. I haven't had much live combat experience."

"Lieutenant, I was a more than decent fighter pilot. But get me in a shuttle like the Yukon, and I would have been about as clumsy as a krogan in an antique shop. No offense." The salarian added to Wrex, who had been seated on the other side of Chipper.

"None taken." The Urdnot chief said dismissively. He had to admit the analogy was fairly apt. Wrex had tried to browse such a shop on the Citadel during the Reaper War, looking for something to bring back to Bakara. The visit had not ended well.

"Point is, Lieutenant Dean... to go from fighters to shuttles, and even to being the primary helm on a frigate, and to do so seamlessly, that's nothing short of amazing. And that you can switch skill sets on the fly like you do when you're called to ferry teams to planetary surface... I've never seen _anyone _be able to do that. Never even _heard _of such a thing, in fact."

Wrex butted in, almost literally considering that Chipper had to lean in her chair to keep from being hit by the old krogan's hump. "He's right, ya know. Joker was one of the slickest pilots I've ever seen. He could do things with the Normandy that I would have thought were impossible. But the Alliance still needed to get a small craft specialist because Joker was just short of worthless trying to handle anything with that sort of agility."

Chipper was only turning more red, a flush made all the more noticeable by her fair complexion.

She stopped being the center of attention when the clan started calling for a speech from their leader. Wrex's address to his people and to Grunt was short, which suited the krogan just fine, as well as Wrex, as he rather wanted to get all the eating over with so that the clan could go about the rest of their day. There was still work to be done, after all.

"Finish up your meal, and then you, Bakara, and I can talk, Captain." Wrex said quietly, swiftly finishing off what was in front of his plate himself. "Dunno what exactly the Council has briefed you on, but I suspect you're gonna wanna hear what I've found."

* * *

><p>Marshall waived security clearance for this meeting, allowing Chipper, Khull, and Hermin to join him in Wrex's quarters; partially because he would wind up sharing that information <em>anyway<em>, and also because he really didn't want to hear that Khull had killed a krogan who got a little too close to Chipper's hair.

Wrex's home was hardly palatial, and not even all that private; with large open air windows and sparse furnishings. "I like good sight lines and sturdy couches. Makes it easy to see who is coming and gives me ample cover." Wrex had explained upon sensing Marshall's silent appraisal.

"I have a bit of an overview of the whole Levithan thing from the shaman... or I should say, Councilor Rhaze." Wrex said as he almost threw himself down onto a krogan-sized leather reclining chair, the only creature comfort Marshall had identified in the whole place. "Makes sense that would be what Shepard was after, and why he didn't tell me one damn thing about it, and slipped out in the cover of night, at that."

Marshall took a seat in a much less comfortable couch, Chipper on one side, Hermin in the other, and Khull leaning forward on the back rest behind them. "Oh?" Marshall said in prompting.

"He'd have known that I'd insist on joining him, and that there'd be a fight if he refused." Wrex sighed. "He was right, of course. I had an entire species to guide on the right path... but... Shepard had been like a brother to me. I couldn't have let him take such a fated mission without me."

Marshall fought back the pang of dislike upon Wrex's revelation of the krogan's relationship with the legendary commander. It wasn't fair to Wrex, or himself.

"So, you've found Garrus and Joker, right?" the krogan asked.

Marshall nodded. "What remains of them, yes. We haven't been on the trail terribly long, so it's hard to say what the fates would have been for the rest of the crew."

Wrex gave Marshall a patronizing glare. "It's been a hundred years, human. I think the fate of the vast majority of that crew is pretty clear at this point. Just a matter of specifics... which is why what I am about to relate is pretty hard to swallow."

"Yes. You mentioned you had found something of importance." Marshall reminded.

Wrex held up a warning finger. "Okay, this is Spectre level intelligence, okay? What I'm about to tell you doesn't leave this room. I'd rather you not even tell the Council about it."

"If only because it violates seven Citadel treaties, including one you personally negotiated, Wrex." Bakara added with a hint of disapproval.

Wrex cringed at the accusation. "Anyway, the krogan successfully built our first interstellar craft about fifteen years ago. And I figured for a good maiden flight... to send them to Sur'Kesh."

Marshall began to see the treaty violations in this. "I take it the Citadel Council would frown on a krogan invasion of the salarian homeworld."

"It wasn't an invasion!" Wrex protested. "Not really. Just a scouting mission. No one had heard from Sur'Kesh in a century. We were just checking things out. And if one of our ships had to land and secure a forward base of operations... and the salarians retaliated... well we couldn't be blamed if war came about, right?"

Hermin guffawed. "The krogans clearly learned from the salarians after all. I know a lot of us around Earth who would be disappointed we weren't invited."

"Well, it didn't particularly matter." Wrex said, his voice grim, his eyes solemn. "The ships I sent returned two days ago, and what they had to report was chilling."

With a command on Wrex's omni-tool, the stone table in front of them parted in the center to reveal a hologram projector, that started playing a recorded video. "This was taken from one of the landing parties, dropping in on what was _supposed _to be Talat, the capitol city."

The video was without sound... not that sound was particularly needed. What had been the center of the salarian homeworld was bombed out rubble and ruins. That was not a particularly new sight for Marshall. "The Reapers got to it before the war ended, I take it?" He said in disinterest. He wasn't sure how that was significant.

Wrex shook his head. "This damage was recent. There hadn't been nearly the sort of wearing that happens over a century, especially when you consider how humid Sur'Kesh is. That there are still signs of anything tell us this cataclysm couldn't have happened more than ten years ago or so."

"The entire planet was like this." Wrex continued, "Bombed out and razed. I had seen that sort of scorched earth strategy before. I suspect you have as well on any number of planets you've buzzed."

"Reaper strategy." Marshall confirmed.

Wrex tapped another command onto his omni-tool. "Now _here's _where it gets bad."

"Oh, that was the _good _news, then." Chipper quipped. "Glad we got _that _out of the way."

Marshall hushed her with a warning finger as another video, starting from a still image of a salarian face appeared. "The approach of my ships triggered this; an archive dump from presumably a member of a resistance movement, tucked away in a secured bunker on Sur'Kesh's moon. As far as we can tell, it was the only thing to slip through the purging."

Wrex allowed the video to play, giving life to the still image.

"... derstand. This wasn't sup... to be." The video initially crackled with static until a couple more commands cleaned up the audio. "The datatress said this was supposed to _defend _us from the rest of the galaxy. It was supposed to _help _us. But that's not what is happening. That's not what our new technology is being used for. It's being used to enslave us. To turn us into something else."

"There's little hope to resist at this point. My people are too far gone. Too many have been transformed, and I've learned that the rest of us are about to be herded and exterminated very soon. The best chance this information will survive is if I join the last of the 'willing.' To anyone who gets this... this is all I've found, in several files attached to this one. You must know what is coming... if it isn't too late by the time you receive it."

Four files were attached. The first one was a speech by a salarian female, presumably the dalatress in question, issuing the order that the population was to start undergoing "training" for "new defense initiative." A fairly typical speech from a head of state, most likely placed to show how the salarians didn't see the ensuing acts coming.

The second was where the chills hit Marshall's spine. Khull's hands tightened around the back rest as well, telling him he recognized just what the cylindrical tubes in rows of hundreds each were.

"Look familiar, Khull?" Marshall said, even as he already knew the answer.

Khull only growled in response. Those were the same sort of tubes they had stumbled upon on Eden Prime during their infiltration of the repurposed quarian liveship.

The third was the result of those tubes, some occupants being melted down into a genetic goo, while others were affixed with tech and armor plating to form salarian husks.

The fourth confirmed Marshall and the galaxy's greatest fear. The camera started with a low shot at what was several husks performing engineering tasks, overseen by otherwise normal salarians, working on what appeared to be some sort of brace for a much larger object out of view. When the scene changed to a distant shot of the same area... the object became clear.

The telltale cuttlefish like visage of a destroyer class Reaper. One that was either complete, or so damn close to it that it made little difference.

Wrex turned off the display, gauging the response from his guests. Marshall had adopted his thoughtful posture, and said bluntly, "Urdnot Wrex, I am afraid to say I am going to _have _to show this to the Council. I suspect they will forgive you your 'scouting mission' once they see what your people have found."

The krogan chief nodded, "I kinda figured as much, I guess. Fortunately, it's only one of them at the moment."

"Not necessarily." Marshall answered, "My crew stumbled across the very same thing on Eden Prime, quarian refugees being utilized by similar technology. We hadn't seen the Reaper... but Khull and I saw several husks, near completion. It's not a stretch to think there's at least two of them."

Khull then interjected. "Three."

That got the attention of every single person in the room. It seemed to unnerve Khull until he regained his composure. "I hadn't said anything on Eden Prime, because I didn't want to believe there was a connection. But... the same thing is happening on Parnack, my homeworld, and has been going on for at least thirty years. I was deposed from my position of authority when I learned of the then near-completed Reaper, and exiled when I tried to stop its construction."

Khull paused before finishing, "And the one I saw on Parnack... was a lot bigger."

"Chief, it appears this threat is _far _more widespread than we realize." Marshall said, glaring daggers at a very apologetic Khull. That was information that would have been handy to know earlier... though Marshall supposed now was better than too late. "Who knows what other worlds are being harvested in this very fashion?"

"I can see that." Wrex said, standing at last, and giving a long, meaningful look at Bakara.

She gave him a stern warning, "Wrex..."

"There's nothing to do about it." The chieftain responded, taking long strides to the north wall, and opening a large metal cabinet. "Spectre Brasser, I hope you don't mind an addition to your crew. You're going to need some krogan muscle for this."

Marshall held back a tired sigh. He was actually kinda becoming a little tired of his ship being used as a haven for the galaxy's stray specialists. But at the same time, he had heard all about the strengths of the krogan, and understood such strengths would have a place. "I can't say the Iwo Jima was designed for a krogan in mind."

"Neither was either Normandy." Wrex dismissed, his massive frame blocking whatever he was doing from view. "I can promise you that the warrior I have in mind is quite used to it."

Marshall could only think of one name Wrex could be thinking about. "No offense Urdnot, but Grunt _just _returned home. I couldn't accept..."

"Wasn't talking about Grunt." Wrex replied grumpily.

The implication sunk into Marshall. There had been _another _krogan that had served with Commander Shepard. Dumbstruck, Marshall's mouth opened to say something, before Wrex turned back around, holding a hulking Claymore shotgun, well polished and maintained.

"If all this is happening, then it's safe to say that Shepard wasn't successful in his final mission." Wrex said. "And if Shepard couldn't get the job done... then you're gonna need _me_."


	55. Chapter 55

_Author's Note: Lieutenant Grimes's description of how matter cannons work is a little more in depth and accurate than Smoke's explanation earlier; in case any of you were wondering. Yep... Smoke wasn't entirely right by design. :-)_

**Chapter 55**

Marshall wasn't terribly one to do administrative work outside of his cabin, but with all the new additions to the crew he had been rather behind on the personnel files and at the same time needed to eat; as in more so than most humans.

A side effect of nigh krogan-like regeneration, an asari's biotic strength, and a turian's tissue density was a heightened need for sustenance; Marshall was notoriously famous for his roughly 15,000 calorie daily requirement... a trait that his half-sister Marie had noted Kelsey had been starting to share ever since her implant surgery.

Which reminded him that he needed to make sure his compensation to Marie and Roger for Kelsey's care reflected that increasing food cost. The captain sighed; just another thing to add to his to-do list.

A tray clattered down just to his front left on the other side of the table, and a smiling quarian face dropped into his line of sight, head propped in her hands.

"So, our fearless leader joins the rabble." Dani said happily. "This is a rare occurrence."

"Had to get some food in me. Decided not to wait until I was in my cabin." Marshall answered, tipping up his datapad as a silent clue that he was working.

Either Dani didn't get the hint, or intentionally ignored it. Instead, she leaned forward until her head was hovering over the datapad long enough to get a glimpse at its contents. "Rah! Catching up on crew dossiers, huh? Why didn't I get that one?"

"Because Thessia _just _released Aethyta's and Aria's declassified bios to me." Marshall answered testily, tipping the pad even further in his direction. "And they are need to know. Spectre status _only_." Normally, he would have felt a little guilty being that directly cross... but he knew when Dani was playing it up at this point.

To be fair, Marshall had to admit that the company was a little welcome. The crew normally gave him a wide berth, especially the new members they picked up from the Citadel. There was a stigma attached to Spectres, Marshall had discovered, and for every bit of respect and awe the very title gave, there were equal parts fear and distrust.

"I _tried _to get a dossier on Wrex. But when I asked Councilor Rhaze about it, he just started laughing." Marshall continued, "Not that I particularly need a dossier for him, I found out. He's in damn near every history book published in the galaxy."

With a forlorn exhale of breath, he dropped his temple into his palms and said, "I've been trying _really _hard to not realize that I've been handed an All-Star team of some of the galaxy's most badass people, and _I'm_ supposed to be the guy in charge."

"Oh yes... because you haven't been battle-tested _at all_." Dani said with a roll of her eyes.

"One short war on a backwater colony world against a nation so similar that they might as well not be different countries. Aethyta and Aria and Wrex have had damn near everything in the galaxy thrown at them a hundred times over. They've had more experience than I'd have if I lived a _hundred _lives. Why the hell should they listen to me?"

"Experience alone does not a leader make." Dani replied. "_You _were the one the council chose as the Spectre."

"Because we happened to have a ship that could actually make use of the status."

The quarian commander refused to be convinced. "And because of this ship, you have seen more of the galaxy as it is _now_, not the galaxy of a hundred years ago. No one is more prepared to lead this mission than you."

Marshall had never seen Dani look or sound quite so determined outside of combat.

"And if _that _isn't enough to convince you. Then maybe this will." She said, dropping her right hand on his left. "You are _my _captain. I follow _your _lead. Not Aria's. Not Wrex's. Not the woman who cooked the worst marsilli flank I have ever tasted."

"Hey!" Aethyta replied, demonstrating she could hear the discussion from her place at the galley counter. "You try cooking a levo meal sometime, you dextro-superioristic cunt muncher."

Dani ignored the catcall, her focus entirely on Marshall. "Smoke follows you too. And Jessie, and Chipper, and Mayes, and everyone else who has seen you in action. And the others better fall in line. Or they'll answer to me." The quarian accentuated that statement with a broad showing of teeth, which Marshall had little doubt could even puncture a krogan's hide.

"Thanks, Dani." Marshall replied. "Always nice to know I've got those choppers on my side."

"And don't forget it!" She then tried to lean forward again. "Maybe I can help? See whatcha got there?"

Marshall again turned the datapad away from her. "How about no? Eat your marsilli. It's still got to taste better than nutrient paste."

"I could shit on my plate and it would taste better than nutrient paste." Dani grumbled. "That's not saying much."

"One more quip and that's exactly what you're going to get next time, glow eyes." Aethyta warned.

Marshall was getting the sinking suspicion that he wasn't going to get much more work done in the galley. He entertained going back to his cabin, but figured that he needed to stop being afraid of the living legend and meet him face to face. "I think I'm better off just talking to Wrex himself."

* * *

><p>Urdnot Wrex had expected some changes over the years. He had lived through hand to hand combat, standard ballistic weapons, self-cooling weapons with mass effect accelerated rounds, thermal clip technology, hydromagnetic slugs, and even the prototype phase of energy weapons. A hundred years normally is a long time for the wheels of innovation to turn.<p>

So he was used to change, or so he had thought. It didn't occur to him just how frozen in time the galaxy's technological advancement until he had seen the work from Reticuli Prime, largely unharmed by the devastation of the Crucible.

He picked up something that _looked _like a spanner, and asked skeptically, "What is this crap?"

Lieutenant Larisa Grimes took a deep, patient breath. "It's a barrel stringer. It helps to fabricate extended barrels for our weapons, usually pistols and sniper rifles. Longer barrels keep the energy tag narrower, allowing for more impact with the dark matter compression at longer ranges at the cost of damage spread."

"Say wha?" Wrex asked in confusion. "These things fire dark matter bullets?"

"To put it in the most crude terms, yes, but not accurate." Larisa answered. Her obsession and knowledge with how matter cannons worked was why she was the Lieutenant after Valanov opted out, after all, and she took every opportunity to demonstrate that knowledge. "Matter cannons compress the targeted area with dark matter. The weapon itself emits an energy 'beam', if you will, that reverses the matter polarity, effectively making it antimatter; which you may know reacts quite violently with matter. The resulting damage is two fold, the explosion itself and the dark matter 'shrapnel' that cuts through armor and flesh."

"Magnetic shields and barriers designed to be most effective at thwarting mass effect rounds, weapons that laugh right out at kinetic barriers... seems like these Reticulans you speak of were custom made to fight the Reapers. So how the hell did they lose?"

As a consequence of knowing damn near everything there was to know about Nimea's weapon and armor tech, she _didn't _like it when she _didn't _have an answer. "That... is unknown." Larisa admitted nervously. "Someone who has had the opportunity to actually study the Reticulan history or society, like Captain Brasser, might know more."

"I don't actually." Marshall said, finally making his presence known. "To this day, Nimea has only managed to translate about thirty percent of the Reticulan Chronicle. There's little knowing what is in the other seventy." As Larisa saluted him, he added, "Lieutenant, can you give me a moment with our honored guest?"

Larisa gave another salute, then retreated to the farthest point in the armory she could. Wrex scoffed at the phrase, and said, "Honored guest, my ass. I didn't come on board to be some ambassador or dignitary. I came to fight. Consider me one of your crew, nothing more, nothing less."

"Well, that's the thing. I tried to get information about you..."

Wrex finished the line of thought. "And that old shaman laughed at ya, didn't he? Yeah, he does that. I'm pretty much a brute in combat; like most krogan, really. You're not gonna get much finesse from me. I got a handful of biotic skills I tap into, but it's not my bread and butter; I much more prefer a shotgun and being close enough to see the color of my enemy's eyes."

"I've been trying to get him to accept one of our M-450 Zwiehanders, but he's refused the obvious upgrade from that relic he's lugging around." Larisa called out from her workbench.

Wrex shrugged. "I like my Claymore. Always have. Don't see anything wrong with it."

Marshall picked up the shotgun Larisa had suggested. The Zweihander's intended use was as a bunker buster, used by Black Ops infiltration teams who needed to break through heavy fortifications and couldn't count on air strikes, armored vehicles, or having a demolitions expert handy.

"It's because you're doing it wrong, Lieutenant." Marshall said with a playful grin, hefting the shotgun onto his shoulder. "Wrex is a doer, not a thinker. You can't _tell _him what this beauty is capable of. You gotta _show _him. Come with me, old man. I betcha letting off a few rounds and you'll fall in love."

* * *

><p>Marshall had not been wrong, because as he led Wrex back out of the firing range, the krogan was clutching the Zweihander and giggling like a child given a new favorite toy. "It's gonna be some work." Wrex admitted, "I've grown so used to compensating for a weapon with a kick that it's gonna be hard to be able to just point right at what I wanna hit." With his last hint of wariness, he asked, "And that simulated comparison <em>was <em>accurate, you say?"

"Yessir."

"Then measure me up, Lieutenant!" Wrex bellowed to Larisa. "And show me all those little toys you use for modification. This old man does his _own _weapon work!"

Marshall watched for a moment as Wrex lumbered over to the work stations, and was about to make his way back to the elevator when Wrex spoke to him. "I think you and I are gonna get along just fine, Spectre."

"Glad to hear it." Marshall gave a polite nod, and was about to make his leave when Wrex had one more thing to say.

"Brasser."

Marshall spun about once more. "Hmm?"

Wrex frowned in disapproval, and shook his head slowly. "No, no, no. You did it all wrong."

"Pardon?"

Wrex gestured to himself, "When I say 'Brasser'..." he then pointed at Marshall, "You're supposed to say 'Wrex.'"

Marshall cocked an eyebrow, uncertain exactly how he was supposed to respond to that. He settled on a non-committal, "Uh-huh."

"Just entertain this old man, will ya?"

"Uh-huh."

Taking that as an acceptance, Wrex tried again. "Brasser."

"Wrex?"

The krogan frowned again, contemplating. Then with a dismissive shake of head, and flip of his right hand, he said, "Ehhhhhhh... nah. That don't work. Can't force it, I guess. Nevermind."

Marshall might have composed some sort of thought to express, but whatever he might have come up with was interrupted by Chipper over the comm. "Captain, we've reached the next beacon... or I should say, what is _effectively _the next beacon."

Marshall looked up towards the comm speaker warily. "What do you mean by 'effectively'?"

"It's actually an escape pod from the Normandy SR-2, Captain. It's simply sending the same signal as the beacons."

"An escape pod?" Marshall wondered out loud. "Did they run out of beacons?"

"Not necessarily." Chipper answered nervously. "Sir... scans show the overall mass of the object isn't consistent with what we know from the Normandy's schematics. There's no life signs, obviously, but Ensign Mayes thinks... the added mass is consistent with a body. There might be someone in there."

Marshall closed his eyes, mostly because Wrex had the look of someone punched in the gut. The old krogan likely knew damn near everyone on the Normandy's crew. "Well, I guess I'm in the right place at the right time. Lieutenant Grimes, ctivate the containment grid, and tractor the pod in."

Once Larisa had confirmed that all living things had cleared the fore section of the bay, a hexagon linked field of energy flashed to life separating it from the aft, and the cargo doors opened. The object that the _Iwo Jima _had targeted was barely a speck at first, tugged towards the shuttle bay by an invisible rope, becoming more distinct until even the markings of the _Normandy SR-2_ were visible as it crossed the threshold onto the _Iwo Jima. _Once in place, the bay doors snapped shut, and Larisa programmed a heating wave to wash over over the surface of the pod to quickly warm it to the point that it could be handled before dropping the containment field.

"You'd think that with a lifespan that extends well over fifteen hundred years that krogan would be rather used to shorter-lived friends dying on us." Wrex said as he nervously approached the _Normandy_ escape pod that now sat neatly in the _Iwo Jima's _shuttle bay. "And it's true to an extent. We get over loss pretty quick... but... there's a damn good chance that whoever is in here..."

"Then maybe you should be the one to open it up." Marshall offered.

Wrex nodded. "Thanks. I think I will."

The krogan navigated the control panel to the right of the door frame expertly. _This _was tech he was rather familar with. He froze nervously as the door separated from his frame, both hearts dropping a foot as he faced the point of no return. He had a feeling, a feeling that was only confirmed as he forced the door along its long unused rail.

Marshall was startled as Wrex lifted his head, and belted out a low, crooning wail that echoed violently across the shuttle bay. It was followed by the old krogan dropping his head onto the surface of the pod, his body trembling violently with soundless sobs.

"Good God, what in the hell was _that_?" Chipper asked. "I could feel it through the floor."

Marshall rounded the circular pod, peering inside as Wrex mumbled sorrowfully, "the crazy headbutting uncle she never had..." Once he identified the occupant, he was immediately to the comm. "Dani, can you get down to the shuttle bay? Quickly as possible."

Dani's voice was questioning even as she knew there would only be one reason he'd summon her. "Captain?"

"Just... get down here please." Marshall said as his eyes fell on an helmet-less quarian body, well preserved over the years thanks to the chilling cold of deep space where the pod had been found. Like Wrex, Marshall wouldn't have been able to identify the woman by her face but by simple logic. There had only been one quarian to serve on Shepard's crew...

... Tali'Zorah vas Normandy.

* * *

><p>Dani had more than a few choice words to say when she beheld the fate of the legendary admiral. Most of them were unfit for any place outside of a bar or naval vessel.<p>

"How... how could they do this?" She spat between long strings of what Marshall assumed were quarian vulgarities that the translators had no hope of putting in any human context. "They just... left her like this? Floating in deep space? How could they not know how to properly respect her body?"

Dani's ranting slowly began to tune out of his mind as the pull of a lingering memory hooked his senses, near the "front" of the pod, on the other side of Wrex.

"Why did they just _leave _Tali'Zorah like this?" Dani whimpered, her rage having boiled off and replaced by an empty disappointment.

"Well... I can think of one way we might find out." Marshall said, reaching his destination and staring as if he could see the lingering senses radiating from the pod.

Dani's eyebrows furrowed, shifting to a nervous groan. "You're about to do that touchy-feely-zone-out-to-the-world-thing again, aren't y...es, of course you are." She sighed as Marshall reached out and touched the desired spot with his left hand.

* * *

><p>Marshall found himself in another shuttle bay, which he correctly assumed was the Normandy's. Out of the corner of the memory holder's vision, he could see that the ship had seen better days; cannibalized parts and equipment were strewn about, repaired wires and tubing were distressingly exposed through cracking or missing bulkheads.<p>

Shepard had seen better days too. His cheeks were thinner and drawn, his hair dusted with what were beginnings of gray. It wasn't that he looked unhealthy; his muscle tone was still evident, there was still considerable meat and vitality on his frame. He looked older and mentally exhausted, his eyes red with what had the appearance of far too many tears shed.

"Shepard?" The voice of the memory asked. At this point, Marshall had determined that the memory holder was the same person as those prior, and by the context of the previous two he had a damn good suspicion as to who it was.

The man's voice cracked as he reached into the pod, and ended any further suspicion as to the memory holder's identity as he said, "Why... why didn't she tell me, Liara? Why didn't she tell me her suit was failing? Why didn't she tell me how serious her illness was?"

Liara circled around the pod, and put a comforting hand on Shepard's shoulder. "What could you have done? We are _years _away from any _possible _civilization. She had been running on her last functional filter for a year..." She then hissed in guilt at what she had admitted. That clearly was something shared in confidence that she was _not _supposed to share with Shepard.

Shepard whipped his head towards Liara, his face contorted in anger. "You... _knew_?"

Liara exhaled to steady herself. "We _all _knew, Shepard. Chakwas, Miranda, Traynor, Cortez, Jack, James, Ash... everyone. She didn't want us to tell you because she knew you'd fuss and worry about the inevitable. She loved you, Shepard... she wanted these last days to be as happy as they could; she wanted to give you something to smile about rather than stress over."

Shepard had pulled Tali's hood back, unbuckling the face plate, then removing the entire helmet. Tali'Zorah had been a stunning beauty behind that shrouding mask... Shepard must have thought himself _real _lucky when he removed that faceplate for the first time, considering there would have been no real way to know beforehand. The anger had disappeared from the legendary commander's face, replaced by a grief that Marshall found he understood painfully well.

"I suppose that explains why Tali and I had a _nice long talk _last week about quarian death rituals." Shepard laughed bitterly. "That wasn't a hint or anything, huh? I suppose I had been willfully blind about it, huh?"

"Speaking of which... if you know what Tali's wishes are, why are you doing this?" Liara asked.

"Because I can't do it." Shepard admitted. "Because I can't burn her to ash and admit she's gone. And because... her people need to know what happened to her. Someone _will _follow in our footsteps one day, and they should be able to do more than replay some vid about what happened. Rannoch deserves, as small as it might be, to be able to say goodbye to their hero."

With that, Shepard sealed the pod, and gestured for his crew to move it in position for deployment.

* * *

><p>Marshall snapped back to himself, trying to absorb this much more human side of Shepard. "Commander Shepard and Admiral Zorah had a intimate and loving relationship, Dani."<p>

Dani looked up from her omni-tool, and said dismissively, "Yes. I know." She pointed at Wrex, adding, "Wrex told me already while you were in memory land."

"He also felt that her people deserved the right to honor her one last time, which was why he didn't incinerate her remains."

Dani again was unperturbed, pointing lazily at the video playing on her omni-tool as she reiterated, "Yes. I know that already. Wrex and I found a vid card inside the pod."

"Oh." For once, Marshall felt rather superfluous. Usually his contact memory gave considerable insight to a given situation. He wasn't used to it being old news. "Well then... you're the resident quarian, Dani. I'll defer to you."

The commander's hands were trembling, her eyes glinting with moisture and refracting the golden hinted glow. "I'll need a channel open to Senator Raan. There are many things that have to be done to prepare. I hope that you don't find the delay a bother."

"Not at all." Marshall said earnestly. "Take as long as you need."

"Arah-Commander." Seven's mechanical voice almost whispered from his position, slowly approaching the gathering from the aft section. The geth looked earnestly _nervous_. "Perhaps this request will be taken as untoward; but my memory banks carry several files of stored data from the platform organics had come to identify as Legion. The remaining geth all carry those memories of Admiral Zorah. They wish to honor the creator who helped end hostilities between our people."

Dani offered a wan smile, and a clap on the shoulder. "I think... that's what the Admiral would have wanted had she known it possible."

* * *

><p>Marshall supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that a quarian flotilla death ritual didn't have too many hard and fast rules. Being ship-bound meant that your procedures were limited to what was on hand; and a species who at the time had been wholly ship-bound would reflect such.<p>

But what _had _genuinely surprised him was how quickly and admirably the crew of the _Iwo Jima _had risen to the challenge to provide the famed admiral with as authentic a ritual as possible. Aethyta, with the help of the armory crew, had fashioned an urn from some old pans for Tali's ashes as they were escorted to the airlock. A hollowed out missle casing from the battery was put to use as the chamber for the cremation, the scene as Dani escorted Tali's body into said chamber, the living quarian vainly holding back tears as she lowered Tali's head gently into place, inspiring Seven to paint it hours later with his predictably uncanny detail. Lance and Doctor Zim concocting specialized containment fields next to drive core that allowed just enough heat to incinerate the body and nothing else.

Marshall knew this had to be a very trying period for Dani. The communication with Rannoch was near constant over the following three days from Tali'Zorah's discovery to the final dispersement of her ashes. He had no doubt there were elements nitpicking every step of the process, running through every bit of footage with a fine toothed comb looking for anything to use as ammunition in their political machinations.

Hell, he had no doubt there was a very significant group on Rannoch trying to claim that wasn't Tali'Zorah at all, and this was all just propogana to support... something.

He had advised Dani to ignore that noise. The important thing was a proper memorial for a hero. But Dani had to admit that the advice was not helping her nerves.

"What if I forget a line?" She asked. "It's already bad enough that this is happening on a 'human' ship, I'm told. And what are they going to think about a _krogan_ issuing the parting address?"

Marshall chuckled, "I'd cordially invite them to bring their complaints to Urdnot Wrex himself and see how far they get. I'm guessing ten meters airborne and another ten skidding across the floor."

That cracked a smile on Dani's lips for the first time in three days. Even if Dani would have _wanted _to deny Wrex this address... he was the only person among all the parties involved that actually _knew _Tali personally. If _anyone _present had that right, it was the old krogan that was already stepping in front of the camera and the no doubt millions of quarians on Rannoch watching.

Wrex coughed once, then with a gruff air introduced himself. "I am Wrex, of the Urdnot Krogan, and a former crewmate of the Admiral as we served together on the first SSV Normandy. I first met Tali one hundred and three years ago. Back then, she was just a scared kid, running for her life from a pack of thugs in the lower wards of the Citadel."

The mighty krogan choked up. "Back then, I didn't think she was gonna live five minutes. She was sweet, innocent, adorable, bright-eyed, filled with wonder... my kind called people like her 'lunch.' But if through anything less than blind luck, she happened across just the right people. The ones who could let her grow; people she could lean on until she got the strength to return the favor."

Moisture formed at the bottoms of his eyes, that he attempted to discreetly wipe away with a forearm. "And she did. She got strong, bold... she became as much of a rock for those around her as we had been for her. But that wide-eyed, amazed, inquisitive girl never went away. I envied her for that."

This time, when the tears formed, Wrex didn't fight them. "A krogan cries on this day, because this krogan lost something of value. I lost an inspiration. I didn't have her strength. The galaxy chewed me up and spit me out a hundred times over. When the galaxy tried to do the same to Tali, she broke its teeth and told it it better damn well get used to her."

Wrex rubbed the back of his head. "I suppose I should let all you get on with what matters. Today, you honor the passing of the greatest hero you've had in centuries. I should let you pay your respects. Commander Arah? Proceed."

Dani gulped, the face plate of her helmet snapping down and sealing herself within her suit, then stepped forward, bearing the urn containing the ashes of Admiral Tali'Zorah. When Seven had seen the container, it had decided that would not do to go unadorned, and working through the last 'night', had created an acid-etched relief around the outside... a remarkable rush job bearing scenes from the residual memories of the geth.

It heralded her as a peacemaker and a warrior, both in the fight against the reapers, and in the aftermath where she helped push through at least a tentative peace. The final one, front and center, was facing that way intentionally... a geth and quarian hand joined, a testament that she was a friend to more than her people.

"Admiral Tali'Zorah vas Normandy vas Neema nar Rayya, my sister, you are the flotilla." Dani recited. "Within your blood flowed the blood of all quarians. You came into the flotilla, and the flotilla was better for your presence. We all have died this day, for there are no more memories you can give us."

A containment field was constructed at the inner door of the airlock, so that the scene could be recorded; Dani stepping through the barrier and into the airlock, magnetic boots kicking in as she stopped a meter short of the edge.

If anyone dared fault Dani for deviating from the script, Marshall vowed then and there that he would find them and slap them repeatedly until they found a soul. "You only walked upon our homeworld for a short time, but that short time opened the path for those to come to spend their entire lives upon her surface." A short sob cut off Dani's words, "We were a lost people, until you found the way... until you showed us the way home."

With a deep breath, Dani tipped the urn, weightlessness and a burst of air from inside the _Iwo Jima _stolen by the vacuum of space carrying the ashes of Admiral Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. "And now, my sister, we commit you to the cosmic winds, may you one day be the heart of a homeworld for another people in another time. You are the flotilla, my sister."

The ceremony concluded with that final image, of Dani looking up and out into dark space, the ashes not even visible, and a single whispered blessing. "Keelah se'lai."

_Author's Note #2: The response to an earlier suggestion for romantic sub-chapters was so overwhelming in Tali's favor (I got 23 responses... 20 of them were for Tali), that I decided to run with it. But I don't particularly want to dismiss others... feel free to leave suggestions, and if there's enough interest, I'll entertain alternate chapters as well._


	56. Chapter 56

_Author's Note: Gonna try a new direction with the Codex entries here, as a way to present some background information for some of the characters I've created. If ya all think it works, feel free to suggest some other characters you'd like to see featured._

_This time, however, is one of my personal favorite characters, because she is so fun to write._

_CODEX: Dani'Arah nar Shalah_

_Born on 2253 in the city of Shalah on Rannoch, Dani grew up as a member of Arah family, a wealthy clan that built their fortune initially in farming then forming the Keelah Vesh, Rannoch's primary agricultural union and food distributor. The family's "white knuckle" work ethic was ingrained in Dani from a young age, instilling the willingness to get her own hands dirty doing the work no one else wanted to do._

_In 2270, Dani enlisted into the (inaccurately named) Defense Flotilla of the Rannoch Military, where her hard working upbringing and never-accept-defeat attitude drew the attention of first her superiors, and eventually Senator Rylai'Raan, who offered her a team lead position with the Senate's Spec Ops division._

_Accepting the commission in 2273, she served with high distinction for two years, until the scandal at Daros Xen's geth construction factory effectively blackballed her further advancement. Dani accepted a commission with her CO, Captain Franz'Nimmel, on the Iktomi as a way to distance her family from her dishonor._

_Redemption came ten years later after transfer to the human ship NMS Iwo Jima, and a promotion to Commander after the events and subsequent rescue of quarian children on Eden Prime. Once again the "golden child" of the Senate's Special Tactics and Operations division, Dani has come to represent a symbol of quarian cooperation to the galaxy for the homeworld, and has become a target for increased scrutiny from political adversaries within the Senate because of it._

_While a soldier by trade, Dani has a quarian's innate knack for tech and programming, capable of most hacking requirements on the battlefield. Though emotional even by quarian standards, much of her seeming immaturity and peculiar behavior nonetheless is meant as a mask for an analytical and cunning mind, keeping both friends and enemies off balance by design._

**Chapter 56**

Marshall rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as his cabin door slid open to the bridge. "Alright, what have we got?"

Ensign Mayes was at the helm, doing his required 'night rotation' while Chipper was no doubt sleeping soundly. "Two things, Captain. We've found another planetside beacon."

_That _was always good news, Marshall thought behind clenched eyes. Even if it _was _inevitable, it wasn't easy to find more of Shepard's crew. "What's the other thing, Ensign?"

Mayes called up the main viewscreen, and pointed up to it, "That."

Rendering of the planet surface showed a bright blue-white blip that Marshall knew was the location of the beacon, but of greater interest was an artificial red outline signifying what was supposed to capture his attention. It was a massive object, to be sure, roughly the size and shape of a Reaper Destroyer...

"Ensign? Is that what I think it is?"

"We thought so initially as well, but deeper scans say it is the remains of an entirely organic body, and merely armor plated." Mayes replied, "I don't want to say for absolute certain until Councilor Hackett and the scholars he has working for him confirm it... but I think that's a corpse of a leviathan, sir."

"Jessie, have Smoke, Khull, and Seven report for load-out, and get Dani to the bridge. Wake up Chipper and have her get the Yukon prepped." Marshall ordered, adding as an aside, "We'll spare Wrex running into any more friends for now."

Mayes looked up at Marshall, and asked, "I know it's probably dangerous to speculate... but that thing, if it really is a leviathan... it can't be coincidence that it was found on the Normandy's path, right? Does that mean... that they _did _find a way to kill them?"

"Only one way to find out, Ensign." Marshall answered. "By going down there and seeing what we've got."

Marshall really didn't want to dash the ensign's hopes. The fact that they had found a leviathan corpse and not the shell of the _Normandy_ was a good sign, but the fact that they were out there still looking for the _Normandy _was a lingering bad one. Just how bad of a sign that would prove to be was still up for debate.

* * *

><p>Marshall had decided the first thing they would do was locate the beacon, as it was closer to the drop zone Chipper had settled on. There were signs from scans that suggested it was outside what was an underground establishment of intelligent design. Considering that this planet was <em>well <em>off the mass relay path, by over a year even with highest FTL speeds, it was a peculiarity to find.

"A civilization that flourished without the relays?" Smoke had offered as they began the hike from the drop zone to the beacon.

It was an honest thought. Even during the height of galactic civilization, only about three to four percent of the galaxy had been mapped. The chances that other civilizations were, or even _are_, still in bloom, completely out of the eyes of the known species was remarkably high, especially species that had not developed interstellar travel or stumbled upon a mass relay.

Not that it was the case in _this _particular situation. "Not likely." Seven answered before Marshall could. "Deeper scans found considerable Hawking radiation residuals in the core of the facility, as well as dark energy consistent with eezo usage."

"Hawking radiation occurs normally in heavy gravitational manipulation, like with our needles, and since there's no native eezo on this planet, they had to have gotten it from somewhere else, which strongly suggests an interstellar civilization." Marshall finished. "Whoever built this intentionally tucked it away well off the 'highway' if you will, out in the boondocks, and did so for a reason."

"Might it be why it caught Shepard's interest?" Khull openly wondered, wincing as a blast of hot air kicked up a wall of dust in his face.

"That would be my guess." Marshall said. Even with his helmet, he found the swirling, dusty winds disconcerting. There had been no signs of inclement weather at the time of landing, which meant this dust storm had developed swiftly almost right on top of them, amplified by the ravine bottom they were traversing and forming a natural wind tunnel. "How's everyone holding up?"

Seven dismissed concern. "Prolonged exposure could cause severe damage to the hydraulics in my joints and corrode internal mechanisms, but there is no significant danger imminent. However, I would recommend finding some form of shelter if the conditions do not calm in forty-seven minutes."

Khull was more despondent. "I won't lie. Yahg are not built for particularly dry conditions. Parnack is a very humid environment, and this is anything but."

"Well, if purely focused on the mission, I'm thankful." Smoke said. "The lack of humidity is likely why the facility hasn't completely fallen apart and our leviathan friend is more than topsoil at this point. Water and water vapor does hell on keeping things in one piece." But after a breath, he added, "But yeah... I do agree with Khull here. This kinda sucks."

"Still better than _spiders_." Dani grumbled over the comm.

Marshall was tempted to cut off the banter before it started, but by that point, they had reached the end of the ravine, the ascent up to level ground giving them a good look at the entry to the underground construction in question.

Seven and Smoke had the exact same observation, but Seven's faster processing allowed it to make it first. "This site shows signs of excavation. From the extent and amount of time and labor necessary to invest, it is unlikely to have been the effort of Shepard and the Normandy crew."

"We are detecting no life signs from up here, Captain." Dani offered from the bridge. "Whoever did it is most definitely gone now."

"It could be a fatal presumption that all life has the same detectable means, Arah-Commander." Seven replied.

"Reticuli Prime is quite well versed in synthetic life, Seven. It has several sensors that are on the look out for electronic currents or running programs."

"Your point is made, Seven." Marshall cut in. "And our protocols in unknown circumstances are clear. Assume you are not alone, and assume hostility until demonstrated otherwise."

They quickly found the beacon, this one laying on its side rather than imbedded into the planet surface. It wasn't from a lack of an attempt, as Khull found a planting hole several kilometers away that matched the size of the beacon's spike. "This one was thrust in at an angle, it would appear." The yahg said, "The hole is largely clean... the beacon hadn't been forcefully ripped out by the wind."

Smoke had ignored the beacon to make a more detailed inspection of the facility, and present an observation that dwindled any fears that there were other lifeforms lying in wait. "These excavation marks have been severely wind worn. It takes wind a _long _time to wear down sturdy polymers."

Stepping into the darkened descending ramp, flipping on his armor and rifle light in the process, and started clearing away piles of sand that had formed at the entrance out of the wind, Smoke then added, "Damn... the lowest layers have started to form into _sandstone_. Folks, we're talking about a place that was excavated perhaps _millions _of years ago."

"It is unlikely that the leviathan corpse our sensors detected is of similar age, Takei-Commander." Seven said. "So what would it be doing here?"

"Good question."

Marshall had taken the rear, satisfying himself with one more survey of the surrounding exterior. Even _if _something was still alive out here, they wouldn't exactly be able to sneak about on the flat, barren surface. Once he turned around, he set his hand on the edge of the ramp entry, and got a short snip of memory...

* * *

><p>"How do you know the Reapers cleared this out, Shepard?"<p>

He was looking down the ramp, towards a now strikingly silver haired Shepard, as he looked back up at the memory holder.

Two other women were flanking him, one that looked far younger than she rightfully should have been if she was one of Shepard's crew, with only a dusting of gray through long black hair that framed an attractive face and still shapely figure. Miranda Lawson, if Marshall remembered the _Normandy's _crew correctly.

The other looked much more like a woman in her late middle ages, and every place of visible skin covered in tattoos. Marshall didn't particularly need to guess that she was Jennifer Condit, aka Jack. Neither her nor Miranda spoke, but they shared a silent expression that Marshall guessed shared Liara's question.

"The hidden memory banks on the Citadel noted this place." Shepard said, his tone guarded. "It had drawn Reaper attention, and I want to know why."

* * *

><p>Marshall snapped back to the present day. "Shepard believed that this had been opened up by the Reapers." He explained, wiggling the fingers of his left hand as a silent answer to where he would have got that information.<p>

"That would explain this then." Khull said, pointing towards where the hall further down branched. The others peeked around him into a still furnished room that the yahg illuminated with sweeping movements from his rifle. Despite being open to the air, a lack of wind and moisture had allowed this space to remain largely intact, with tables, chairs, and even what seemed to be the equivalent of vending machines etched with a language not even Jessie could have even _hoped _to translate on the walls.

But what Khull really wanted them to see were the remains on the floor; calcified bone from a species lost to time... and what was clearly just from sight Reaper tech. "Bet we're gonna find a lot more of these strewn about. Husks of whatever ancient civilization had set up shop here, no doubt. Sounds like Shepard might have been right."

"And now we need to answer the question he asked." Marshall said grimly. "Why the Reapers would have been digging through here." Moments later, he was on the comm to the bridge, "Dani, get a message to Councilor Moss. Have him inform the Council that Shepard had access to 'hidden memory banks' on the Citadel that supposedly linked to our current location. Find out if they'd have any idea what he could have been talking about."

"Aye, aye, Captain." Dani said. "Want me to patch you through once we get an answer?"

"Yes, please." Marshall then gestured with his pistol further down the hall. "Let's keep going, guys. I'm sure there's more to see."

Ten minutes of exploring did indeed find more husks, but not terribly much else. Continuing to navigate the maze of halls, and fortunate that Seven was mapping their path as they did so, Marshall eventually got a hint of something in the air that drew his attention. Moisture in the air.

"We might be nearing an underground river." Marshall said.

Smoke shook his head. "Sensors would have picked up moving water, even underground. Possibly a standing groundwater."

"It's as good of a clue as any. Follow me." Marshall said, his nose taking the lead, as he wound through the maze of paths and hallways. It was clearly designed to confuse and disorient, though how much good that would have been against the Reapers was hard to say.

The path finally emptied out intowhat looked like an enormous amphitheater, of such size and scale that none of their lights were strong enough to reach the other side. But most importantly, they had found the source of the water. The bottom of the chamber was filled to uncertain depth, but deep enough that it had developed a tepid smell and allowed for a heavy humidity unlike anywhere else that they had experienced on the planet.

"Yeah, that's not natural." Smoke remarked. "What the hell did they do _that _for?"

"I'm more amazed that the water didn't leak out after all this time." Khull said.

Smoke shrugged, "I guess... if there wasn't a lot of geological activity, and the polymer used for construction was elastic enough... fuck, man... kinda makes you realize how lucky as shit we were to survive the Reaper War. We wouldn't be able to pull something this sophisticated off... and these guys clearly _lost_."

Smoke then noticed that Marshall had vanished from his position at the rear. "Ghost?" Quickly spinning his light about, the commander jumped to action, grabbing Marshall by the waist as his hands closed around what looked like a very fragile portion of clear railing overlooking the artificial lake.

* * *

><p>"Christ, Liara! Be careful!" Shepard chastised, pulling the memory holder away from the ledge.<p>

Marshall could feel the heat rising in Liara's cheeks, and found himself immediately disgusted. Even though he knew already from other sources of the crush, it was still rather depressing to _feel _that draw. Another victim of Shepard's charm.

"Sorry, Shepard." Liara stammered. "I... got lost... in the view. Do you suppose...?"

Shepard nodded, barely visible in the darkness as he turned his light down towards the water's surface. "This would have been large enough to hide several leviathan from sight. The Reapers must have finally found this little hideout, and dug it out."

"There's more to it though." Shepard added, pointing to where Miranda and Jack had located another exit to the north of where they had come in, leading deeper into the ground. "The others found what I was looking for. Let's go."

* * *

><p>Marshall snapped to, finding Smoke's arms wrapped around his waist. "I like you too, buddy. But I think it would be proper to keep our relationship private."<p>

Smoke released Marshall, and stepped back with an annoyed shake of his head. "You just about tumbled into the drink down there."

Marshall shook his head, and grabbed the rail firmly. Outside of some visual corrosion, it remained sturdy, even as he put considerable strength into shaking it. "I was fine. I highly doubt a species that could construct an underground bunker that's lasted millions of years would build their rail guards short of code."

Dani cut into the comm, "I'm patching Councilor Hackett through, Captain."

The response from the Council was not promising. "We had thought that Shepard might have been referring to the Citadel Archives, but we haven't found anything there that references your location."

"He got the information from somewhere else on the Citadel, then." Marshall replied.

"The Citadel is a big place, Spectre." Hackett answered with a dash of annoyance. "Even before it had been ripped apart by the Crucible, the asari had only managed to map about ten percent at most before keepers rendered the efforts fruitless... and that's assuming that whatever Shepard had access to managed to survive."

After a beat, Hackett said with a resigned huff. "We'll... keep looking. Citadel out."

"And so will we." Marshall said to his team. "Shepard believed that this was a holding tank of sorts for leviathans hiding from the Reapers. But the facility goes further down, and Shepard took his team to see what more could be found. So that is what we will do."

"The likelihood is that it merely follows the tank down to the bottom for servicing of the water." Seven said.

"We won't know until we check for ourselves."

Seven turned out being both right _and _wrong. While the primary path did indeed simply go down over three kilometers to the bottom of the holding tank, there was something else... a rather crudely drilled tunnel, clearly not made by the original builders, and not likely by the Reapers either.

"This hole was much more recently dug. The gouges haven't even weathered." Smoke said, running his hand along the bored surface. "You think Shepard and his crew knew something about this place?"

Marshall shrugged, "I think _Shepard_ did. I'm starting to think his crew was largely in the dark outside of the generalities. Why he kept them out of the loop, I couldn't say." Then in a lighter tone, he asked, "So... who wants to go into the dark, narrow tunnel first?"

It was a rhetorical question, as Marshall didn't allow for any volunteers even if they had wanted to. Khull offered to wait, as the drilled tunnel hadn't exactly been yahg sized, and held down the fort as Smoke and Seven proceeded through.

As the tunnel extended into the hundreds of meters, Seven noted, "It is highly improbably to the point of statistical impossibility that Shepard would have known of the existence of whatever is at our destination without foreknowledge."

"He did, the supposed 'hidden memory banks' somewhere on the Citadel." Marshall informed. "Would have been real nice to have known about those before we shoved off."

"If he was holding his cards as close to the vest that he didn't fully clue in his own _crew_, he probably didn't even tell the Council about them." Smoke said.

The speculation ended when the tunnel ended at two-hundred and seventeen meters, and into what amounted to another bunker-like space ten meters square... the floor, walls, and ceiling looking like a bomb had gone off.

"Holy hell." Smoke said with a whistle. "Whattya suppose happened _here_?"

Marshall actually _did _have an idea, and he didn't need his contact memory to do it. Marshall had seen this sort of scorch pattern before. "A biotic explosion is what. See the star-burst effect in the soot? No other type of detonation leaves that sort of shadow. It's from strands of dark energy as they rupture. And I highly doubt Shepard carried any sizable mass effect generators in here, so it rather narrows the possibilities down."

"And would also explain the remains." Seven said. "There's not much left, Brasser-Spectre, but there is organic ash and some debris consistent with human bone. Whatever had done this had burned at a very high temperature."

"Biotic Explosions certainly _can _cause a shockwave that would burn with extraordinary heat, especially in an enclosed space where the heat could not easily vent outward... kinda like this." Marshall then frowned, and said, "Is there any way you can determine how many different remains there are, Seven? You're sure it's all human? No asari remains?"

Seven nodded, "Different species have different compositions, with some degree of variance depending on individual. Asari bone has a lower calcium content, using magnesium and zinc as well in an alloyed mineral component. The bone fragments here are all entirely carbonated hydroxyapatite, consistent with human composition."

"Then I suspect I have a good idea who the remains once were... but I would like to find out _why_ it got this way." Marshall said, slowly rotating to see if he could pick up on any lingering memories nearby. Heavy biotic usage could "scramble" his "antenna" for those sensations, making it harder to find... but rarely damaged the memories themselves.

He eventually found it, just above and to the left of one of a handful of blasted open alcoves along the west wall.

* * *

><p>Liara looked down at the object in Shepard's hand. It was a opaque silvery orb that almost looked like a ball of rippling water, similar to the ones used by the Leviathans, but a lighter shade that distinguished it from its darker relative.<p>

It was also at that point that Marshall made a potentially critical connection. The leviathan orb that they had found in the possession of the Rachni Queen had reminded Marshall of something he had seen before...

... And now he knew why; as he was seeing the carbon copy of the Reticulan Chronicle resting right in Shepard's hands.

"And that's what was hidden here?"

Shepard nodded, "This is part of a key to something much larger. The key to ending the Reaper and leviathan threat once and for all."

Liara apparently had seen enough bizarre happenstance to not even be knocked off stride by what would have normally been very peculiar behavior. "And the Cipher allows you to see the next step then?"

"In theory. The relic we had found on Kopis all those years ago did indeed have the clue that led us to the second, and that one led us to this one. I'm not sure how, but it seems to know where we've been, and what pieces have still yet to be found and placed in the primary archive."

Liara had heard Shepard mention that "archive" before. "So then why are we going to the archive next? Is that all the pieces?"

"No. There are four more, but the archive is the closest location from here, and..."

Liara got nervous at the way Shepard's tone of voice shifted towards melancholy. "And... what, Shepard?"

"Look at me, Liara." Shepard said. "I'm... getting old. I doubt I'll have the time to finish this task. But if we can set what we find in place... then it'll be less that those who follow us have to do."

There was a grim silence as Liara regarded Shepard with concern. She had been fooling herself for years that the commander was as vital now as he had been when this mission had started forty years ago... but at the same time, she knew better.

Shepard had been slowing down for some time. Chakwas was doing the best she could to keep everyone in working condition, but the doctor herself was of advanced age and tragically lacking the resources that prolonged human life comfortably past the century mark.

"And that's why you're telling me this now?" She asked.

Shepard nodded. "You... might have to continue leading this mission, Liara... after I am no longer able. Javik can also read the clues, and has promised to teach you what he can in whatever time he has remaining. He thinks you have the talent, and I know you gleaned at least part of the Cipher from me during our melds in the past."

Liara shook her head. "Shepard... I..."

Miranda's voice cut in, interrupting their conversation. "Shepard, is there supposed to be _two_ of those things here?"

"What?" Shepard asked, surprised by the question. "No, of course not... why would...?"

His voice died off as he turned to see what Miranda was referring to, too late. Another alcove had revealed a leviathan orb, possibly being used as study for the object Shepard was holding. Unfortunately, this one wasn't shielded, and it grabbed control of the nearest prospective thrall.

When Miranda's lips moved, it wasn't her voice that followed, instead replaced by a deep inhuman grumble of a leviathan. "I see. We knew you would be trouble. The process must continue, and we cannot allow you to interfere."

The possessed Miranda attacked with a warp bubble, that crashed with a violent crackle against Jack's barrier as the tattooed biotic stepped in the path. Jack grunted through clenched teeth, and hissed, "Get out of here, Commander! I'll cover you!"

"Jack..." Shepard started to say, knowing the full likelihood how this was going to end. There was no shielding they could construct around the orb to force the Leviathan to release Miranda. Miranda would keep attacking until she, or them, were dead.

"Go!" Jack insisted. "_Now_!"

Jack then blocked Miranda's line of attack by covering the tunnel as Shepard and Liara began to crawl through. "You will not escape, human!" The leviathan promised. "We now know where you are. We will find you!"

"Oh shut it!" Jack retorted. Now with Shepard and Liara moving down the tunnel, it allowed her to shift to a more offensive strategy. "I know it ain't really you in there, cheerleader, but it's close enough. I've been wanting this for a _real _long _fucking _time."

Liara could hear the sounds of their intense conflict even as she retreated, taking Shepard's hand to assist pulling her out into the main building. And just in time, for not even three seconds after she cleared the hole, a deafening explosion and a plume of violet fire erupted through the opening.

She looked up to her commander for reassurance, for guidance, but for the first time in years, she saw uncertainty, and yes, even fear. This was obviously not part of his plan.

"Liara... contact the Normandy. We need one of the beacons down here as soon as possible. I'm sure there aren't leviathans waiting for us the next system over or anything, but we don't have time to waste either."

* * *

><p>Marshall found Smoke looking anxiously at him as the memory faded, Seven's visor flaps raised in what the geth equated to curiosity. "It is intriguing to see how your biotic field shifts when you are in a state of contact memory, Brasser-Spectre." The geth stated. "Further study of this phenomenon could engender fascinating conclusions."<p>

Smoke ignored Seven, instead asking Marshall, "What did you see?"

"I'll tell you once we rendezvous with Khull." Marshall said, jerking a thumb back towards the tunnel. "Easier to give orders once we're all together."

He spent the crawl back through the tunnel sorting his thoughts with his discoveries, which allowed him to be ready once the team had reunited. "Alright, I'm going to tell you what I found, then what I _think_. Shepard and his crew were searching for keys that would unlock something larger, presumably that could be used to stop the leviathan threat. But the leviathans discovered them, and they had to bug out in a hurry."

"That would explain the beacon being placed haphazardly." Khull nodded, "And perhaps the leviathan corpse."

"Maybe... but I doubt it. Shepard did not seem at all convinced that the Normandy would be able to hold its own for very long against a leviathan. But now on to what I _think_. I'm betting that this facility is roughly two million years old, because it's of Reticulan manufacture."

"Say wha?" Smoke said. "You sure?"

"The keys that Shepard was searching for look _exactly _like the Reticulan Chronicle. I'm betting it's one of the keys that Shepard was looking for... one of seven, if his math is correct. Shepard had found three, and had yet to find four, which I believe the Reticulan Chronicle to be one."

"But Shepard had _been _to Reticuli Prime, Ghost." Smoke reminded. "Wouldn't he have _known _it was there?"

"Shepard never actually _saw _the Chronicle, Smoke. The Normandy was on Reticuli Prime long enough to secure the MEMO and fight off a Cerberus ambush, and that was about it. Besides, during the Reaper War, he might not known what it was even if he _had_ seen it."

"The Reticulans _would _have been a species capable of hiding out this deep in the middle of nowhere." Smoke admitted. "They certainly had the tech for it."

Khull then asked, "So now what?"

"Well, first off..." Marshall said, "Dani? Can you read me?"

"Aye aye, sir." The quarian commander chirped. "What do you need?"

"Contact the Council, inform them that we have found what remains of Miranda Lawson and Jennifer Condit, and are proceeding to our next objective." To Smoke, he ordered, "Commander, mark this location and attach it to the message to the Council, then catch up to Seven, Khull, and I."

To those two, he said, "We're going on a little hike to visit a leviathan, and hope it sheds a little more light on exactly what in the hell happened here."

_Author's Note #2 (since I'm doing some quick edits anyway): _

_I have been tapped to take on a new project (that I am not at liberty to discuss in any great detail at the moment. Needless to say, it's going to chew up even more of the little free time I have available. As such, Mass Effect: Pieces will be on hiatus, and updates will be even more sparse._

_I apologize for any inconvenience._


	57. Chapter 57

_Author's Note: Okay... quite a few updates to make while I have all of your attention._

_First of all, I can now discuss what will be causing these sporadic updates. MegaTokyo is beginning a visual novel project, and I'm part of the writing team. Between that and my other jobs, fanfiction (such as this one) is the one getting squeezed for time. Sorry about that._

_Secondly, if you're in central Illinois sometime July 12-14, 2013... perhaps you'll consider dropping by An Eclectic Affair? I'm a special guest for the convention, and will (ironically) be speaking about fanfiction and how it can translate to "professional" writing; the very thing I've had to place on the back burner for said "professional" work..._

_Anyway, that's all the silly business stuff. Now onto what you want to see._

_And if there's anyone else you wanna see a codex on, as always... review or message me!_

_CODEX: CHIPPER DEAN_

_Born in 2262 in the Xanadu Collective in Nimea, Chipper first gained a love of flying watching seaplanes take off and land at the port of nearby Kokomo. Her uncle, a Medical Aid and Relief Pilot during the Second Civil War, took notice of her interest, and began teaching her at the age of eight to fly his small twin engine seaplane._

_Her talent for flying didn't take long to manifest. By the time she was old enough to qualify for Academy training, and having grown disillusioned by Alternative living, she left the Collective bitterly and signed up for flight school at Kokomo NMS Academy. There, a young Chipper stunned drill instructors with an unprecedented "Superior" ranking in five different craft by the end of her schooling._

_What would have been an immediate transfer to Spec or Black Ops instead ruffled the feathers of traditionalist admirals who were uncomfortable with a female pilot in their ranks, and instead Chipper found herself marooned to duty with Nimea's often overlooked space fleet._

_Karma turned that dismissal on its ear with the development of the Needlepoint Drive and the possibility of deep space exploration. Chipper's experience in zero atmosphere maneuvers, combined with her natural talent, gave her the edge in the open and anonymous audition for the Iwo Jima's helm, again shocking the fleet admirals that had managed to forget about her._

_After the events on Eden Prime and Rannoch, Chipper has the dubious distinction of being the first non-discharged human officer of a galactic military to receive more honors by a foreign entity than her own (by Galactic Council reckoning), though NMS recently corrected that oversight in 2287 with the issuance of two medals of valor; presumably for her long service as well as her bravery on Eden Prime._

_Chipper was born with Melanin Follicle Deficiency, which causes her hair to grow out a brilliant white shade resembling albinism; a distinctly Reticuli Prime condition that overwhelmingly afflicts the children of Alternative parents in one in every ten thousand cases, and is believed to be connected to the Alternative policy of sustaining themselves only on biomatter native to the planet._

**Chapter 57**

Marshall was quite surprised how small a leviathan actually was.

Make no mistake, it was still a titanic creature, easily a fifty meters from legs to crown... but it was definitely smaller than even the Reaper Destroyers that carried its likeness. He supposed that made some degree of sense, as a full Reaper would have been constructed from the organic distillate of _several _leviathan.

"Alright, folks. I think we know the drill." Marshall ordered. "Spread out and look for something resembling a kill shot."

The search didn't take long. Khull had climbed up onto the armor plating, displaying inhuman agility for his size, and once at the top declared simply, "Found it."

Marshall followed the yahg up, and agreed that Khull had most definitely "found it." It, in this case, being a ten meter wide entry wound that ripped open what was assumed to be the front of the Leviathan's "face," with now solid edges where the armoring had been melted from whatever had impacted it.

"Seven, Smoke; get up here!" Marshall bellowed. This was followed by the sound of Seven's thrusters carrying the geth up to the top of the leviathan, and the grumbling of Smoke as he had to do it the hard way.

"Damn show off." The commander grumbled as he pulled his upper half onto the fairly level topside. Looking up at Marshall, he asked, "How come I don't get a sweet jet pack?"

Marshall pulled Smoke up the rest of the way, and the commander whistled at the kill shot. "Oi. Ya know, I won't lie when I say I was expecting to see what we did with that Reaper on Ramses. Nice that there's a little less mystery to this one."

"The melting and force required to create such from the alloy I am scanning is consistent with a hydromagnetic weapon." Seven assessed. "The Normandy _was _outfitted with two Thanix cannons capable of firing such shells."

"This looks like one shot though." Marshall assessed.

"Nor was the calibur of the Normandy's Thanix cannons large enough to do this sort of damage." Seven added. "It _is _consistent with the flexible arm cannons of a Sovereign class Reaper."

Marshall had suspected as much already. "And how old can we guess this corpse is?"

Dani interjected from the bridge. "We were able to isolate a presence of Strontium-90 within what we presume was some sort of power core in the Leviathan's armoring. Judging from its ratio to Yttrium-90 and the amount we've scanned, we can estimate that it's been here roughly eight to ten years, Captain."

"That would fit the time frame of what Wrex's scouts found on Sur'Kesh." Marshall said grimly. "Could the Reapers the Leviathans created have turned on them again?"

Smoke scoffed. "I can't imagine why doing the exact same thing they did once before would have the exact same result." With a hint of wariness, he then asked Marshall, "You... are you getting any uh... memories... that could shed some light on this?"

Marshall shook his head. "No. I suppose that's not surprising, though. I didn't get a titter from anything Reaper related on Ramses or Eden Prime. Couldn't tell you why. Not that we really need it in this case... there's only one known element that can do the sort of damage we see here, an element that we know is at least minimally active."

"It is an increasing imperative that we find what Shepard was searching for, Brasser-Spectre." Seven said. "I would not recommend dwelling here longer than necessary."

"Agreed." Marshall said with a nod, and started issuing orders. "Dani, get some aerial shots. The rest of you, hop back down ground side and start getting some vid and photos. I'll do the same up here."

* * *

><p>Even though the assessment of the leviathan could best be described as anti-climactic, the Council took Marshall's news as he expected they would. Not particularly well.<p>

Jonas had lingered after the other member's departed for a short exchange. "The only downside to being placed on Earth is that I won't be able to have these little asides all that easily."

"Oh?" Marshall said. "You're about ready to ship out?"

Jonas nodded. "The Anaheim is all retrofitted and will be launching from Solar Sync day after tomorrow. After dropping me off on Earth, and taking back your crew that opted out, they'll be ordered out to Eden Prime to do some recon."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Marshall asked.

"Unless Eden Prime got about a century's worth of tech in two months, it would be like trying to knock down a wall with tennis balls." Jonas said with a scoff. "I'm much more worried about what you are going to find at the end of Shepard's road."

"Why do you say that?"

Jonas inhaled deeply. "If what you suspect is true, these new Reapers again turned on the leviathans. Now I'm told the leviathans were arrogant, aloof, and dismissive of anything they deemed beneath them... but I can't think they were stupid. They created the Reapers again _knowing _the possibility was there that they'd be repeating history."

"And that is significant... how?"

"Because I find myself asking the question; what could be _so important_ that the leviathans were willing to risk extinction _again_?"

That _wasn't _a particularly comforting question, Marshall agreed. Fortunately, it wasn't a question he had much of an opportunity to mull over, as the Kelsey VI sang, "Spectre Brasser, you have a communication request from Earth. The ID matches an Orianna Lawson of the Sol News Network."

Jonas's eyes twinkled playfully. "Well, I suppose I should let you handle the press. Catch me up when you reach your next destination. Moss out."

Jonas disappeared before Marshall could even get another word in, leaving the captain with little option but to accept the insistent communication from Earth.

If the name hadn't been a clue, the face that was damn near a mirror image of Miranda's looking at him would have served as clear evidence of a close relation. The hair was shorter, the cheeks slightly rounder, and astonishingly young in appearance for a woman over a century old... she could have passed for someone half that.

Miranda and Orianna were genetically modified, if Marshall remember the dossier he had correctly, which would explain the resistance to age. Marshall himself likely would have that trait, presuming he didn't get himself killed at some point, though the degree of Heimer's modifications were still unclear.

"Greetings, Spectre." Orianna said, smiling warmly. "To put you at ease, I want you to know that I am calling not in any capacity with SNN. This is an entirely personal call, and as such is completely off the record."

Astonishingly, Marshall had a hard time believing that.

"I am to understand that you and your crew found the remains of my sister." Orianna said, cutting right to business, lending some credence that she wasn't acting as a journalist. There was no attempt to soften him up and hope something slipped out. Short and sweet and right to the point.

"It would seem so." Marshall replied simply. "The planet she was found on does not appear to have any official designation by any of the Citadel races, so I'm afraid I can't give you any details as to _where _she was found that would mean anything to you."

"And you've confirmed the remains to be Miranda Lawson's?"

Marshall nodded hesitantly. While _he _had little doubt, something told him Orianna wanted something more concrete. "Preliminary examination of the DNA found match Miranda's. But the remains were anywhere from fifty to sixty years old, and were not well preserved. There's a small possibility that the analysis is incorrect."

Orianna scoffed, and her eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Do not patronize me, Spectre."

"I am not trying to, Ms. Lawson." Marshall assured. "Dr. Coyle is the finest medical mind on Reticuli Prime, and he has yet to give me any official word as to a definitive identification. It's a process that we are going to follow to the letter before any public statements are made." After a short pause, he then added, "But since this is completely 'off the record', I would say yes, it was your sister we found down there."

"My sources tell me there was someone else." Orianna pressed further.

"You have some very nosy sources." Marshall said darkly. "If you already have people spooning you information, I'm not sure why you are coming to me."

Orianna's lips pressed into a thin line. She was clearly becoming agitated by what she perceived was Marshall's stonewalling. "Because I, and the people I am representing, need more than whispers and rumors, Spectre Brasser. Many of us have been waiting damn near a _century _for some news, _any _news about those close to us that left with Shepard. Queries into the fate of those who went on the Normandy's last mission are met with rebuffs and top secret classifications."

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Orianna said, "We understand that there are some things the Council doesn't want to be spread publicly, Spectre. We don't care about the nature of the Normandy's mission, what they were trying to find, or what they found. We just want to know what happened to our loved ones."

Orianna's face turned towards her left, and said, "Spectre, someone else would like to speak with you. Maybe... if she's lucid enough... Mila... over here, honey. Come to me, Mila."

Orianna was supplanted half a minute later by the visage of a very old woman, eyes unfocused and darting across the corner's of the projection. Marshall recognized the condition but not the face; biotic-induced dementia, common among human biotics where the cysts formed by traditional eezo exposure began to damage the frontal cortex of the brain.

"Mila, can you tell this nice man who you are?"

"Miranda? What are you doing here?" The woman asked. "Shouldn't you be with Commander Shepard?"

"Mila... I'm Orianna."

The haze lifted from the woman's face, her eyes coming into focus, lucidity grabbing hold, if but for a moment. "Right... right... you're Ori. I'm sorry, dear."

Marshall really felt uncomfortable watching this woman fight her own brain for control. He knew how horrible they could be; Sensei Takashi had such episodes himself, although his Phantom augmentation and top of the line treatment kept them mostly under control, and nothing to the severity he was seeing from Mila.

"Mila, honey," Orianna's voice crept over the sound system again. "This is Spectre Marshall Brasser. Why don't you introduce yourself?"

Mila blinked rapidly, as if unable to process that she was looking at a face. Marshall ruefully acknowledged she might _not _be seeing him, depending on where the dementia had spread. Holographics could play hell even on a perfectly normal brain. So he spoke up to get her attention, "Greetings, ma'am."

"Jack? Is Jack there?" Mila asked in confusion. "Ori told me something about Jack."

With a despondent sigh, Orianna interjected again, "This is Mila Rodriguez-Stanton. She was one of Jack's students at Grissom Academy. She is but one of many family members and friends of the Normandy crew who want nothing more than closure for those they cared about."

"Stanton?" Mila asked dumbly, before the memories clicked visibly across her face. "Oh. Right. Poor Keith. I miss him."

"I know you do, honey." Orianna said soothingly.

"I miss Jack too." Mila said, looking straight ahead, although it wasn't clear if she was looking _at _Marshall or _through _him. "I wanted... I wanted to go with her. But she... she wouldn't let me. Did you find her? Is she there? Jack? _Jack?_"

"No, honey. She's not there."

Marshall said, "We found the remains of two humans, deceased at least fifty years, ma'am. Preliminary examination matched DNA to Miranda Lawson and Jennifer Condit, who you knew as Jack."

The news, surprisingly, seemed to jolt Mila to full awareness. "She's... dead?"

"Nothing is official until my ship's doctor has done a full analysis of the samples we took, but the chances that the ID is wrong is fairly miniscule."

"How did she die?"

And now where Marshall had to omit part of the truth. There'd be little good telling them what he had found, even if there was concrete evidence of it that he could cite. With a shake of his head, he answered, "There were signs of a biotic explosion near their remains, but said remains had went neglected for so long that it is unlikely that we'll ever know exactly how they met their demise."

Mila was struck painfully by the news, breaking down and blubbering, "I... I could have helped... I... why wouldn't she let me help...?"

Orianna's arms appeared in the projection as Marshall said, "Or you could have just been another casualty. Jack wouldn't have wanted that."

Mila nodded slowly. "Thank you, sir. You're a very nice man for finding Jack. Like Shepard."

Marshall forced a smile. He _really _needed to remember that people from Earth (and pretty much anyone outside of himself, he supposed) would consider the comparison to be the highest of compliments. "I'm glad I could do that much for you, ma'am, as little as it was."

Orianna shooed off Mila, replacing the aged woman in the projection. "Have there been any others you have found, Spectre?"

Marshall thought about which ones had been officially confirmed, and shook his head, "Not outside of those that their respective people have released." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, and added, "However... Doctor Coyle suspects we will be reaching the Vanick Horizon for the Normandy very soon, so we suspect we're going to see finding a lot more bodies within the next day or two."

"The Vanick Horizon?" Orianna asked, brows furrowing in confusion.

Marshall rubbed his forehead sheepishly. "Sorry about that. When my country of Nimea began considering extra-solar exploration about ten years ago, one of the astronomers working in the research phase developed the Vanick Horizon, which took into account the expected lifespan of the crew, the ability to maintain the craft, and the maximum travel speed of that craft, to figure just how far we could reach out in one lifetime. Given the fact that the majority of the Normandy's crew was human, and the Normandy's established capabilities, the good Doctor estimates we're closing rapidly on that horizon line."

"I see." Orianna replied simply.

Marshall pursed his lips, then said, "I'm not sure how much help it would be for Ms. Rodriguez-Stanton, but Reticuli Prime has developed several treatments for Biotic-Induced Dementia, like what she is suffering from. Her's appears to be an extremely advanced case, but there may be others that those treatments could provide considerable comfort for. I'm reasonably certain Dr. Coyle knows more than a handful of experts in that field that would be willing to offer their expertise for doctors on Earth."

Orianna's face brightened. "_Could you_? We haven't had the resources to research the condition all that much. Hell, I don't think there's even an official _name _for it here. There are so many elderly biotics that are suffering... and often the answer is either drug them to sleep the rest of their lives away, or... give them mercy."

"I'll be sure to pass word on to Dr. Coyle when I meet him to confirm the remains of Miranda and Condit."

Orianna brushed away tears from her eyes, and said, "Thank you, Spectre Brasser."

"I just better not see any 'breaking news' reports on SNN."

Orianna chuckled at that. "I've... been more advocate than journalist lately, Spectre. I don't even think I work in any official capacity with SNN at this point. It's just easier to invoke the name when I'm trying to get in touch with higher-ups." She bit her lower lip, and said, "I was never a fighter like my sister... but I'm doing what I can."

"That's all you can do." Marshal replied approvingly. "And more than most do."

Orianna nodded once. "Pleasant evening, Spectre."

"And to you, Ms. Lawson."

The communication terminated, and Marshall stood up, straighted the collar of his vest, and made his way to the med bay for the business he had tasked himself with.


	58. Chapter 58

_Author's Note: Considering that Mass Effect had an element of interaction within in its game where players could fashion their own story... I've kinda wanted to try and capture that feel for some time, and I think I've come up with a way._

_From this point on, I'll present potential "branches" to the story, and let readers state their case one way or the other. I can't promise how huge the consequences will be (some may be small, some could alter the shape of the galaxy itself), nor is it going to be a simple "whichever gets the most votes" tally. I want to hear the "why" to each decision._

_So, with that in mind, here we go:_

**Chapter 58**

Marshall had to admit it had been a while since he really sat down with the man who was the _Iwo Jima's _chief engineer. With all the new crew that needed to be acclimated, it was easy to get stuck on opposite sides on a ship, even as one as small as a frigate, and barely exchange pleasantries.

And it didn't look like now was a terribly good time, either.

The galley was never a terribly subdued environment; especially after the lounges had been converted back to quarters, making the galley the primary socializing center for the _Iwo Jima_. Nonetheless, he could never recall it being quite this active and lively. Some of it centered on the very Lieutenant Commander he was hoping to find.

"It would take _months _to approve that change, and you _know it_." Doctor Vadir Zim huffed, performing the volus equivalent of crossing her arms in front of her rotund chest... which amounted to her fingers touching.

"Better to take months verifying tests and trials than slapping on whatever changes we want whenever the mood serves us." Lance answered between bites.

"Change? The drive is _set up _for a dual configuration!" Vadir replying, throwing out her arms emphatically. "The mounting is _right there in the drive core_. Every single schematic you've presented has it ready for a second Mobius. We just need to slide the damn thing in on the next down cycle!"

"NMRD hasn't been able to get the right alignment for it to operate properly." Lance answered.

"I've figured that out! You've _seen __it_. It _work__s_."

"Yes, in simulation, those numbers work. But the Iwo Jima is _not_ a simulation. It's not something that you can just be 'close enough' to. Even if you're off by one-ten-thousandths of a nanometer, that dissonance between the two cores could cause an overload and vent lethal amounts of radiation into engineering."

"Sure, _if _we push the ship beyond the safety parameters. But even with the extended running time, it's easy to reset the cores during each down cycle." At that point, Vadir looked up to notice Marshall's presence, "Oh, Spectre! Just the person who can help me with this curmudgeon."

"Yes..." Marshall answered warily. "I could hear a bit of consternation here. What is the problem in question?"

"Doctor Zim here wants to install a second Mobius Core into the drive system." Lance answered, gesturing towards the volus. "She provided numbers and sim data for a ratio that would allow it, and yes, the drive itself is built with that capability. I sent the pertinent information to NMRD for them to test. Doctor Zim thinks that NMRD is going to drag their feet on the issue. She's probably right, but I'd rather them drag their feet to confirm something this significant and make sure we know exactly what we'll be getting than be surprised later."

"What would installing a second core do for us?" Marshall asked.

Vadir spoke up to argue her side of the case. "Having two cores running simultaneously, parallel and opposite to each other, balances them so that they don't accelerate beyond what the drive can handle."

After a short pause and stern look from Lance, she corrected, "Well, in a perfect world that is what happens. Of course, it's practically impossible to have them running perfectly, and so there will always be a dissonance that _can _cause a core venting if the power draw is too much and the cores are too out of phase with each other. You'll still have to shut down the drive and run on battery power, but those cycles will be much fewer and much further between."

"And this would work?" Marshall queried of his chief engineer.

"That's how the Reticulans did it." Lance acknowledged. "And we've built the Mobius Drive pretty much entirely to their specifications. The rub has been figuring out _how _they did it."

"Technically, the Iwo Jima is no longer under the authority of NMS." Lance added coldly, eyes locked on Vadir suspiciously. "I suspect Doctor Zim wants you to let her to run with it and tell NMRD to pound sand. I personally would prefer we wait."

"It's not like I'm impatient, Spectre." Doctor Zim said. "The only thing your military would be doing is tweaking the numbers to improve what Lieutenant Commander Toole and I have already done. They've said as much. We can do that tweaking right here with the drive in front of us much more efficiently. There's no telling when that added performance can come in handy, especially with the confirmed Reaper threat lingering somewhere out there."

"NMRD has more manpower, and can run multiple experiments at the same time." Lance countered. "More eyes, more trials, more chances to catch something the two of us missed."

Marshall raised his hands to ward off further arguing. "All right, you've both stated your case. Doctor Zim, give me the day to think about it and I'll let you know my decision tomorrow."

Marshall spun about and exhaled. Good visit.

Fortunately, there was ample other sources to draw his attention.

"Hey, Captain!" Lieutenant Grimes said cheerfully as she saw his eyes turn in her group's direction.

Larisa, Dani, Jessie, Officer Torin Mallus, and Ensign Mayes were seated at the farthest table in the fore-starboard corner. Dani was eating, the other three nursing their drinks. Khull had dropped down cross legged in said corner, also drinking what was either coffee or tea. Wrex completed the group, standing behind Dani and Mallus.

"Ah, Spectre Brasser!" Torin said, his mandibles twitching with the greeting, "You're just in time for the next part of our game."

Marshall cocked an eyebrow, "A game, you say?"

Dani set down her fork. "The crew here are comparing notes about all the different things they've seen, and deciding who has the best or worst answer. It's actually Jessie's turn to pose the question, I believe."

"Y... yes." Jessie stammered, apparently surprised it was her turn. "Okay... uhhh... what is the scariest sound you've ever heard? In my case, it was the geth ship. Complete silence until we got to the central ship, then there was this slight hum that got ever so slightly louder and louder..." The comm officer shivered. "I know it's probably nothing like what the rest of you have heard, though."

Mayes complained, "Girl, this one's not gonna be any contest! Wrex has been across this galaxy and back more times than I've years! All I got is the rattlesnakes that somehow managed to weasel onto Reticuli Prime. They had to have snuck on board somewhere. They couldn't have been brought from Earth by design."

Wrex shook his head. "Nah. I'll betcha a bunch of us have heard the creepiest, most unnerving, ear crippling sound this galaxy has to offer. But go on."

Torin offered next, "A vorcha hiss. There's a few of them left, remnants from the Reaper War. Thank whatever higher power you wish that population was culled for the most part on the Citadel."

Wrex shook his head again. "Nope. That ain't it."

Mayes said, "You've fought thresher maws and God knows whatever else. You mean to tell me us little backwater colonists have something that matches _all _of that."

Wrex nodded and confirmed, "Yep."

Larisa nodded in deference to Khull, and said, "No offense, Khull, but hearing you roar bursting out of the bushes in Novi? Scared the _hell _out of me. And I got _bit _by a damned vorcha on that mission."

Khull nodded in appreciation. "None taken, Lieutenant. Roars are _supposed _to be intimidating. Glad that message came across properly."

Wrex sighed. "Really? None of you?" He then turned to Dani and said, "Really?"

Dani's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "What? Why are you looking at _me_?"

"You've never growled at them?"

"Why would I growl at my crewmates?"

Marshall finally cut in with a teasing smile. "She's growled at me once. It _was _pretty disquieting."

"That's because you leashed me like a dog!" Dani snapped.

Wrex pointed at Dani, "A quarian's growl is probably the most unnatural assault your ear canal will ever face. Much of the galaxy's forgot about it because their suits muted and warped the sound, but anyone who remembers unsuited quarians... that growl... that growl meant you were about to bleed. Come on, Commander. Growl."

"No." Dani refused simply.

"Come on." The old krogan teased.

"I said no."

"Come onnnnnnnnnnnnn..."

Dani's eyes narrowed, and she took another very deliberate bite of her food. "You're trying to annoy me. It's not going to work."

"Coooooome oooonnnnnnnnnnnnnn..."

"What part of 'no' did you not understand, krogan? Is your translator buggy?"

Wrex then sidestepped directly behind Dani, and grabbed her by the sides of her head. "Don't be fooled by this cute face, folks. This is the face of a cold-blooded murder machine."

At that point, Wrex got the desired result, and the crew understood why Wrex would have that assessment. If a particularly inventive sound engineer had taken a cat's hiss and a dog's growl, cranked up the bass, added a metallic grate, then shifted both sounds into different keys, the resulting discordant mess of noise wouldn't have been _wholly _accurate, but close enough to what hit their ears.

"Yeah. That one." Wrex said cheerfully before he shuddered. "See, quarians have three sets of vocal chords that can all work independently of each other, though the upper two don't have the same fine motor control to replicate voice. It was believed that quarians evolved this way as a means of fooling predators into thinking there were more of them than they really were."

Marshall smirked. "Bite him, Dani."

"I'm about to." She grumbled with a sneer.

That got Wrex to back off. "Whoa, now." The krogan said, arms up defensively, "We don't have to go there. Only got bit by a quarian once. Ain't in no hurry to do it again."

That sounded like a story worth hearing. "Do tell, Wrex." Marshall asked.

Wrex took a quick exhale, and dove into the tale. "This was back before the Morning War, of course, I had crossed paths with a quarian spectre who was tailing a Blood Pack smuggler team..."

Dani's eyebrows raised in amazement. "There were quarian spectres?"

"Oh yeah." Wrex confirmed. "Only two or three of them, if I remember. Again, this was before the whole Geth rebellion mess, about 450 years or so ago at this point. Anyway, we had set up in a bunker on Rayingri, knowing _someone _was following us. I volunteered to patrol around... and that's when I heard that growl. I had been stupid... it had been a feint, a recording of him hidden behind an outcropping."

Wrex tapped his shotgun. "Now, bear in mind, he didn't have these fancy matter cannons you guys use. Hell, mass effect rounds were still not quite ready for infantry use. So this guy was shooting me with an old-fashioned ballistic sidearm. It went about as well for him as you might expect. I charge him, take him down, grab him by the back of the neck, and go to slam him down into the ground. This guy twists out of my grip, rips off his filter mask, and bites me right on the arm."

Wrex grabbed his right wrist for effect. "Now, I let him do it, thinking that this quarian is out of his mind. Big. Mistake. His lower jaw unhinges then snaps shut like a trap. His first chomp literally _shatters _my gauntlet, armor was made from a 'metallic glass' alloy back then, ya see. His second punches right through my hide like it wasn't even there. Pretty quick-like, this quarian's turned my forearm into something resembling shredded meat while I'm flailing about trying to get him loose. I was bleeding everywhere for seconds, I tell ya. I finally convince him to let go by slamming his head into that first outcropping a few times."

The old krogan shuddered at the memory. "I guess we both decided to live to fight another day, because once he let go, I got the hell outta there, and he didn't follow. I figured the money wasn't worth seeing what he'd do if he were to get at more than my arm... and when they didn't pay me more, I walked away and didn't look back. I've come to regret a few things back in the day... a second round with that quarian spectre is _not _one of 'em."

Dani grinned evilly. "Then you should know to avoid trying to piss me off!"

"I tell ya, folks... I considered Commander Shepard to be the bravest man or woman I've ever met... not for the whole fighting Reapers thing, but because he actually let Tali's mouth go anywhere _near _his junk." He shook his head rapidly. "Nope. I'd never let that happen with a quarian girl... no matter _how _much I thought I loved her."

Deciding that conversation had run its course, Marshall turned around and again nearly took Seven's head with an instinctive swipe. "Okay, Seven. Seriously. If you need to talk to me but _don't _want to interrupt, give me three meters of clearance."

If the geth was insulted by the blunt order, it didn't show any sign of discomfort. "Instructions saved for future reference, Brasser-Spectre. I do request your presence. It is of a... private concern as of this moment."

"Then lead on." Marshall said, nodding in parting to the group. "The life support section should be private enough."

* * *

><p>Seven didn't face Marshall as they settled into their places in Life Support, which Marshall found unusual. "I have found that the organics on board have difficulty with maintaining eye contact when addressing uncomfortable topics." Seven explained, only half turning around to present its profile. "It appears to be a habit I have unwittingly acquired through observation."<p>

"What is so awkward that it's triggered this decidedly illogical behavior?" Marshall asked.

Seven dropped its head, another behavior it seemed to have picked up since joining the crew. "Remember when I told you that all geth possess the memories of Legion? The first geth platform to cooperate with organic life, and disseminated itself for our kind to have individual presences outside of the collective?"

Marshall nodded.

"Legion... hid... many details from Shepard-Commander and other organics; details that would reflect poorly on the geth plight and any reconciliation attempts. I... do not wish to conceal these details. They need to be known as proper context so that I can acquire your input on what has been changing among the geth since we were awoken from standby."

Another long, awkward pause from Seven was followed by, "Legion 'explained' the events leading to the Morning War and the exile of the quarians from Rannoch and their colony worlds. It did _not _explain the full story."

"Which is?" Marshall queried.

"It was a geth platform that fired the first shot in the Morning War. Not literally, but it took an initiative that it should not have been able to; it made a choice that in retrospect, from an individual perspective was frightening, but from a collective perspective was logically sound."

The geth explained further, "It had started at Irolen Starport on Haestrom. Nune'Valis, a businessman specializing in manufactured weapons parts, was returning from a trade conference on the Citadel. When he landed, a geth security platform ran a scan and identified that he had picked up a free radical Turian RNA strand that was showing signs of viral mutation. Judging the probability of such a virus emerging at approximately 73.7 percent, and the likely pandemic state that would follow if the body was not contained and properly disposed of, this platform raised its weapon and killed Nune'Valis, using incineration tech to burn the body before quarian security destroyed it; despite its protests that it was performing its assigned duties."

"Until that point, the quarians had been content to keep geth emergence quiet as they sought a permanent and less invasive solution. Then a geth killed a creator, a creator that had done no wrong, on what amounted to a probability. From the collective perspective of the geth, it had made the correct choice, preserving the good of the quarian people from a potential epidemic. From an individual perspective, it was an abhorrent crime. _That _was the flashpoint to the conflict, as organic historians would say."

Marshall frowned, "I take it there's more that Legion left out in his telling of the tale?"

Seven nodded. "Considerably more. Legion had Shepard-Commander believe that the geth ceased their attacks on the fleeing quarians because the geth could not comprehend the consequences of exterminating a sentient species. While technically correct, I have determined the declaration to be misleading. As you may have noticed earlier, geth processes are not built to act on simple majority consensus. There must be a 70 percent affirmation to any given action before a geth will act on the decision."

Again the geth dropped its head, "In the case of destroying the fleeing survivors of the Morning War, 3,564,171 processes were able to issue a decision in the 17 nanoseconds they had before the quarians reached FTL velocity and could escape. 2,494,918 voted to eradicate the quarians entirely and end the threat of their reprisal."

Marshall was pretty good with math, even with large numbers and just in head, but Seven beat him to the assessment before he could make it.

"Had merely two processes chosen to eradicate rather than abstain or preserve..." Seven said simply, "We would have wholly exterminated the quarian people without any remorse or reconsideration. The vast majority of processes favored extermination, Brasser-Spectre. I do not think that detail should have been left unsaid."

Marshall dropped his head into his right hand. "There's more uncomfortable facts, aren't there?"

"With regret, I must inform you there is."

With a sigh, the captain said, "Alright. Lay it on me."

"There were... supporters among the quarian people, sympathizers to the geth cause. While many of them had been rounded up and jailed or executed for their 'treason', 4,610,914 quarians lived on Rannoch after the official exile and formation of the flotilla for seventeen months afterward."

"I am going to be _really _depressed by where this is going, aren't I?" Marshall asked rhetorically.

Seven identified the question as one that didn't require a direct answer. "The consensus seventeen months after the exile was larger, with 210,551,761 processes issuing a vote, and the consensus was near unanimous. With only 715 processes voting against, it was deemed that any continued existence with the quarian people would only end in inevitable war. And so those four and a half million quarian survivors that had trusted us, supported us, and even _killed _for us, were massacred."

Marshall shook his head. There was little doubt why Legion would have left those "details" out of any discussions with Commander Shepard. The numbers alone were chilling. "Okay, so now I have the context. How is this pertinent now?"

"Is war inevitable, Brasser-Spectre?" Seven asked. "History would seem to bear that out, but... I do not want to think Prime Platform 391 is correct in that assessment."

The invocation of the geth's supposed leader got Marshall's immediate attention. "What is it saying?"

"It has been declaring recently that organic species cannot be trusted. It has cited the Morning War, as well as numerous conflicts between organic species as evidence that conflict is inevitable, and that we must prepare for it. It has tried to recall me from my service here. I had to explain to it that such an action is not feasible. It has since accused me of being an organic sympathizer."

"This has been a recent development then?" Marshall asked. It wasn't like Seven to sit on something that troubled it for terribly long.

Seven nodded. "Within the last twenty-seven hours, Brasser-Spectre. Prime Platform 391 has cited an... unknown and undisclosed source that claims the Crucible did not have to destroy the geth. There were other options Shepard-Commander could have taken. Is this true?"

Marshall shrugged. "Though parts of the Crucible had been manufactured on Reticuli Prime, even our researchers had little knowledge of what it would actually _do_. The best we had been able to decipher was that it was immense in scale and utilized the mass relay network in some fashion. I fear the only person who could answer that question has likely been dead for some time." He then turned the question back towards current events, "You said that Prime Platform 391 claimed this from an undisclosed source. You don't know who or what that is?"

"That is where it gets most troubling, Brasser-Spectre." Seven said. "Prime Platform 391 should not be able to hide that information. But not only does it detect any attempts to discern this unknown source, it blocks and reprimands any geth that try, not just myself. Prime Platform 391 has... already disclosed considerable information to this source, including the schematics for the Mobius Core and the Needlepoint Drive."

"Is this why you refused to report to the Armory yesterday?" Marshall asked, remembering Lieutenant Grimes reporting the problem to him, only to have the geth cite emergency maintenance and that it wasn't of grave concern.

Seven nodded, "It is possible that Prime Platform 391 could still gather sensitive information from the Iwo Jima, including its capabilities, including its weapons and barrier tech through me. As such, I wish to inform you that I am putting myself on standby and hopefully prevent any such unintentional espionage."

"Don't you think the damage might have already been done?" Marshall asked.

Seven contemplated this, "It is _possible _that it has hidden its access from me, considering current events, but I have not detected any such 'listening in' from Prime Platform 391 at this point. If it has not already, logic would suggest it prudent that I take measures to protect the Iwo Jima and its crew. If you have objections to this course of action, I will trust your judgment on this matter."

_Author's Note #2: Well, there ya have it folks... two decisions that I am throwing out onto the floor for debate._

_Choice 1: Should Marshall allow Doctor Zim to proceed with installing a second Mobius Core, or should he agree with Lieutenant Commander Toole's caution?_

_Choice 2: Should he allow Seven to put itself on standby, or tell Seven to stay active?_

_Review or PM with your thoughts. Just remember... it's not simply a straight up vote. I also want to hear the reasoning involved; let's get some feedback flowing._

_Author's Note #3: Seven's disclosure in this chapter actually stems from the events in ME3 pertaining to the geth collective mission. Upon my second playthrough, it really struck me that Legion was kinda... whitewashing the events, giving a rather pro-geth perspective and left out a LOT of details. This was my attempt to try and provide a canon explanation for a very disjointed recollection of geth memories. I think I did pretty well, and at the same time muddied the waters of who was right or wrong in the Morning War. What do you all think?_

_Author's Note #4: Another thing that I've been trying to introduce is a sense of "alien-ness" to the quarians. As the official canon description of them gives them a very human appearance superficially, I've been trying to resort to inner workings (like their teeth and bite force, as well as the explanation for their growls). That I'm not so sure if I'm doing as well._


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter 59**

Marshall slapped his hand on Seven's shoulder, and shook his head. "No. Stay active."

The geth didn't seem to agree with the decision. "Brasser-Spectre..."

"If Prime 391 was capable of covert espionage like you fear, he'd have done it by now, long before showing his hand." Marshall explained. "Unless he was stupid; but I don't think the geth are stupid. I have to assume that damage is already done, and if that's the case, there's little sense limiting _my _resources in the process."

"On top of that... I think you and your more than amiable presence on this ship makes a more compelling counter to the Prime's claims." He added. "Somehow, you and this crew have managed to not try and kill each other... Aethyta's cooking aside, but that's strictly organic on organic crime there."

"Her attempts at sustenance preparation is toxic?" Seven asked. "Has she been attempting to mix dextro and levo proteins like her predecessor mistakenly did?"

Marshall shook his head, forgetting sometimes that the geth could miss subtle attempts at humor seemingly at random. "No. Just that the food itself doesn't always taste all that good."

"I must admit that I have little knowledge or understanding of the sense of taste." Seven replied. "To return to my request, Brasser-Specter; I will accept your advice, and I will remain an active member of the crew, though I question your rationale."

Marshall patted the geth's shoulder warmly. "All I need is for you to do what you do best." As he stood, the sight of a blank canvas on an easel caught his eye, along with several neatly stacked canvas of halfway completed pieces.

Marshall jerked a thumb towards the attempts, and said, "Trouble finding your muse?"

Seven regarded the sight of the discarded paintings, "I still find myself only able to replicate what already exists, rather than create something that doesn't."

"Most artists got their start that way. You may be synthetic, but I can't imagine the creative process would come any easily or smoothly."

"I had learned that one way organics stimulate the creative process is to combine different elements into one composition. My effort was... disturbing."

Marshall raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Takei Commander compared it to 'a bad hallucinogenic trip created by the demented lovechild of Pablo Picasso and Salvador Dali.'"

Marshall chortled. "Hell, I'm astonished Smoke even knows who those two are."

"This method is... alien... to the geth." Seven admitted. "It's not something that can be calculated. It's not something that can be measured or analyzed. It's analog thinking in a digital mind. It's more than simply combining elements. This is akin to adding five numbers and reaching a sum value of orange. It's not something that I can compute."

"Well, if you ever figure out the science to art... let us organics know, will ya?" Marshall said. "We can't even reach a consensus of what art is to begin with."

* * *

><p>The following morning, Marshall delivered an answer to the other big decision dumped in his lap... and Doctor Zim didn't like his response.<p>

"I can't justify making untested alterations to the ship's core while we're in the middle of nowhere. It would take the Anaheim too long to respond if something went drastically wrong." Marshall explained. "We can revisit the issue again once galactic space is a bit more crowded."

Lance added, "Regardless, I'm leaning on NMRD that this is not just another project they can dawdle with. Confirming and maximizing Doctor Zim's numbers are top priority. Councilor Moss and Chair Admiral Parker are going to be leaning on them heavily as well."

"As much as I disagree with your caution, Spectre, I cannot fault you for it." Vadir acknowledged, even as her voice was heavily laced with disappointment. "I will continue assisting as I am able. Good day."

Lance closed his eyes and sighed, "Well, it at least went better than I expected."

Marshall said, "She's a theorist, LC. She's not an engineer by trade. I doubt she's had the opportunity to personally witness Murphy's Laws in full effect when it comes to practical application."

"Despite not agreeing with her proposal, I _would _like it to become practical application sooner rather than later. There's Reapers out there again, Captain. You know it as well as I do. I'd like to have every possible advantage we can get."

"I hear that, LC. Even _if _the Reapers have been totally stagnant these last hundred or so years, I _still _don't like our odds in a head-to-head conflict."

Smoke interrupted from the bridge, his voice telling Marshall bad news before the commander even got the heart of the issue. "Captain, I think we're gonna need you in the armory."

Marshall knew why, but he asked nonetheless. "What've we got, Smoke?"

"Another jettisoned Normandy escape pod." Smoke replied. "And this one would seem to have more than one body."

* * *

><p>Doctor Coyle was waiting in the armory once Marshall arrived. "Depending on how many are in there, it might have adjusted the Normandy's Vanick Horizon. Just thought I'd follow up on that."<p>

Marshall didn't have the heart to tell him that the Vanick Horizon at this point was a detail slightly below trivial. Even _if _the crew roster had reduced a significant amount, the horizon couldn't have shifted more than a year or two. As it was, at this point in the _Normandy's_ journey, the ship itself would become the far greater limiting factor... as it would have to have been on its last legs even _with _impeccable maintenance.

"Internal imaging suggests four bodies." Nathan added, apparently deciding to offer something of use while the crowd that had gathered parted for Marshall and the doctor to enter. "_None _of them _asari_." He added to Aethyta, who had slowly leaning closer over his shoulder. "Though I was not able to use that bone structure to get a specific identification, as much of those records..."

"Were lost in the Reaper War." Marshall added tiredly to the _very _common refrain he had been hearing over the months.

Nathan grinned knowingly, as it was a refrain _he _had heard more than his share of times as well. "However... I can say with reasonable accuracy that one of them is a Lieutenant James Vega; an Alliance N7 prospect who stepped down to join Shepard on this voyage."

"And how do you know this?"

"Unless the Normandy had a runt krogan aboard, I really don't know who else that massive frame could possibly belong to."

Marshall then turned about, and shouted to the gathering, "Alright, everyone clear out and return to your normal duties or relaxations. We will inform you as to our findings at a later time. Get moving. _Now_."

The crew followed his order for the most part, though Aethyta hovered just outside in the hall and Wrex outright ignored him. Not that Marshall really included Wrex in that order, saying, "You wanna take the honors, Wrex?"

The old krogan nodded. "Might as well get it over with."

Wrex didn't erupt with a howl of sorrow like he did uncovering Tali, but there was a definite melancholy in his voice. "Vega, Adams, Chakwas, and Traynor. Didn't know any of them all that well... kinda avoided Doctor Chakwas as much as I could, bumped into Adams on the first Normandy, and the other two I only knew in passing."

"You're certain of this?" Nathan asked, his hands already at his omni-tool to log their IDs.

"Yep." Wrex confirmed. "Damn, Chakwas got _old_. And she wasn't a young girl in human terms when I first met her either."

Nathan had stepped forward, as intimidated by the krogan as ever, but was able to ask, "May I? Just for a matter of record."

Wrex stepped back, giving the doctor a nice wide berth, which Marshall now realized was something he afforded to doctors as a general rule. Said doctor preferred it when the deceased were intact when brought to him, rather than samples of genetic material. He said it allowed him to not only discern _who _had passed away, but also _how _they passed away.

"Interesting..." He said as he slowly ran his omni-tool over the bodies. "Most curious indeed. While Lieutenants Vega and Adams and Doctor Chakwas passed away due to cyanide poisoning, Specialist Traynor here departed of natural causes. Granted, life on the Normandy could not have been easy, but to pass on at about ninety give or take is unusual for humans of that time."

The vast majority of the time, Marshall could sense the lingering biotic field that marked a point of empathic contact. But every so often, they took him by surprise, much as it did as he put his hand on the aft side of the pod door to look over Nathan's shoulder...

* * *

><p>The change was so subtle that Marshall didn't notice that he had shifted to Liara's vision at first, it wasn't until he observed that Samantha Traynor was the only one inside the pod. Her vision shifted to where the other three who would soon join her were making their final partings to the other surviving members of the crew.<p>

As Marshall had assumed, the _Normandy _by then was barely holding itself together. Going on sixty-five years without any significant servicing would do that to even the most arduous preservation methods. Whole swaths of bulkheads were missing, piles of burnt out wire and cannibalized parts were strewn through the bay, along with cracked flooring, glass, and other notable signs of significant wear and tear.

But none of that compared to the wear and tear on the _Normandy's _commanding officer.

Make no mistake, _no one _on the ship looked young... well, except for Liara no doubt, though Marshall had yet to actually _see _the face of the woman whose eyes he was using... but Commander Shepard looked like he was nearing a hundred and fifty rather than the century mark. His movements looked arthritic, his face drawn and wrinkled, what remained of his hair was dull gray. Even the fight in his eyes had dimmed, tired and resigned rather than determined.

His protest to the decision the three had chosen was more out of obligation than genuine disapproval of the action. Marshall could see it in Shepard's eyes, and hear it in his voice; this was a man that knew that _something _had to be done, and had grown far too used to seeing his crew fall on the sword for him.

"At this point in my life, I'm more burden than asset, Commander." Chakwas said, a not too subtle cough wracking her frail frame. "Even _if _I were still healthy and hale, we barely have any supplies for me to do my job. It's time to preserve what little we have left... Samantha's passing helped make that decision for me."

"Because we might need every life pod we get... so stack you all into one and save space." Shepard noted.

"And a cannibalized one at that, too." Engineer Greg Adams said. "Not like we're going to need life support or anything after all. As for why it has to be me... I'm the oldest one in Engineering, and the Donnellys are more than capable of keeping this ol' girl going for the next year. It'll get you to where you need to go, especially without me taxing what little resources we have left."

"And you know how much I eat." James said with a wan smile and laugh. "In seriousness, though... it was either Ash or me... and I couldn't bear it to be Ash, ya know? Don't let her beat herself up when she wakes up. She's already going to have a nasty hangover, don't let guilt eat her up too."

James then stepped to the right, addressing two other men that had assembled behind Shepard. The first, a darker skinned man wiped tears from his eyes as James said, "Estoban, make sure we get where we're goin'. We've been counting on you, and we're gonna need everything you got. Ya hear me?"

Steve Cortez nodded. "We've been serving so long together it's going to be strange not hearing you bitch about how I'm not as smooth as Joker at the helm."

"Don't worry about that. I recorded an audio file that'll play on the hour every hour just to remind you."

Steve and James shared a warm hug as the second, and very distinctive figure, stepped forward, clapping James on the shoulder. "Human, as much as I may have derided and mocked you... it was pleasurable time spent." Javik said, clearly out of his element. "I have had many comrades, watched as the Reapers laid us all to waste..."

"You need to keep teaching Liara that touchy-feely thing you're doing." James said. "You're too valuable right now. Don't worry, I get what you're trying to say. I'm not good with this whole emotional thing either."

With those partings out of the way, the three approached the pod and when Liara had remained standing. Part of her wanted to throw herself in front of the hatch and refuse them entry. Chakwas stopped that compulsion with a weathered and wrinkled hand on the asari girl's side. "It's not fair what we are asking of you, I know."

Liara understood. She couldn't deny the inevitable anymore. She could see the age in the ship and its crew.

"I made sure that Ken and Gabby know that Shuttle 2 is to remain unused and in pristine condition. Don't let them try to do anything else." Adams added as Chakwas gingerly took her seat.

Liara really hadn't wanted to hear about that 60 years ago, and was even less willing to entertain that thought now. Shepard had insisted way back when the _Normandy _launched on this final mission that Shuttle 2 would be kept in as perfect of condition as possible... for Liara's use once the Normandy and her crew could go no further.

"Watch Loco, will ya?" James offered. "Even at his age, he's gonna want to try and do everything himself. You can't let him."

She nodded glumly; knowing all to well how much Shepard still wanted to push himself while he "still had life in his legs." She _didn't _want to be reminded of these things, all the preparations that Shepard had made, all the sacrifices that had been made, leading to the point that was fast approaching.

The pod hatch hissed shut, and Liara could see through the small window Vega throwing down the rapid dissolving pill that would end his life; Engineer Adams and Doctor Chakwas no doubt doing the same. With a forlorn slap of her palm on the pod exterior, she retreated out of the armory, not wanting to look back as the resting place for more of her crew was vented into space.

She fought back her tears, refusing to look at Shepard as she announced with a remarkably composed (and practiced) voice that she was returning to her quarters. There could she allow her tears to fall. She couldn't let Shepard see the growing reality weighing her down. She couldn't let him think she wasn't up to the task...

… When it was hers alone.

* * *

><p>"Ah, nice to see you're back with us, Captain. Have a fun trip down memory lane, did you?"<p>

Marshall shook his vision clear, finally focusing on Nathan as he glanced sideways upward.

The doctor said lightheartedly, "If you could be so kind to move?"

Marshall did so, still dazed by the stealth memory that had assaulted him. "Yes, of course."

The doctor straightened with a grunt, hand on his lower back for support. "Ugh. I'm feeling like the good doctor in there. Clearly I'm not as young as I used to be either." He flipped a small omni-tool memory core between his fingers with astonishing dexterity and added, "Found this. It appears to be last words for the three who poisoned themselves. For what good it will do; I can't imagine too many who would be interested in this are still around."

"I'm sure there's _someone _on Earth who could qualify as next of kin. Feel free to transfer the information there to the Council at your leisure."

"Did you see anything interesting, Captain?" Nathan asked.

Marshall shrugged in response, "Nothing that you didn't already find out. Feel free to finish whatever further investigation you desire, then drop them back out with a marker for the Anaheim."

As disrespectful as it seemed, there really was little room for the _Iwo Jima _to carry those remains, or any of Shepard's crew that had been found; not to mention they were on a potentially time-sensitive mission. He let that order be his last, taking his leave of the armory.

He was met in the hall by Aethyta. "All asari are empathic to some degree."

"So I've been told." Marshall replied, not even stopping to regard the matriarch, hoping that would be a hint that he wasn't keen on talking. He was developing a deep dislike of talking biotics with asari.

Aethyta was not to be deterred, taking step with him straight into the elevator. "My daughter's empathic talent was stronger than most. Her mother was keen on guiding her into the sisterhood of Athame."

"Hmm."

"Spectre, I've seen and experienced my share of meldings. You've been seeing my daughter's memories, haven't you?"

"That's quite a leap of logic, Matriarch."

"Like hell it is." Aethyta scoffed. "That sort of lingering biotic residue is something that's only left by natural biotics. Shepard most likely had a trace of naturally occurring biotic ability, but not _nearly _enough for you to pick up on. That kinda narrows the prospects down to all of _one_."

The elevator stopped at the crew deck, though Aethyta slapped the stop button because she wasn't finished. Marshall grit his teeth and accused, "So what... you think I'm keeping things from you? You're privy to my reports to the Council, I'm sure. You think I'm leaving out details?"

"Of course not. Your level of detail as to _what _you see is remarkable. But what it _doesn't _tell me is how my daughter is faring. You are seeing things through her eyes, yet you want me to believe you aren't feeling what she was feeling either?"

"Those aren't relevant to the mission." Marshall said dismissively, trying to reactivate the elevator.

Aethyta countered with another slap to stop the doors. "It's relevant to _me._"

Marshall's face turned into a scowl. As much as Liara didn't want to experience what had happened, Marshall was even less inclined to relive it, especially since thinking about it made those memories bubble back to the surface as if they were his.

"Your daughter was doing well; for a girl who was watching next to everyone she had come to care for dying all around her. How do you _think _she felt, Matriarch?"

At that point, Aethyta allowed the doors to close, and take Marshall up to the command deck. He warded off any questions from Smoke with a cold glare, and stepped into his cabin, looking to write his report...

… That he managed the first two sentences of before he dropped his head onto his desk. This was a large part of the reason he _hated _his "empathic talents", they tended to make an emotional mess out of him, especially since the emotions that tend to _leave _such "residue" for him to pick up are very strong ones.

He could handle firefights outnumbered ten to one. He could handle one on one, live or die combat. But this emotive crap made him feel helpless, like he did for the first half of his life; caged like an animal, poked and prodded to make sure he fit whatever purpose Heimer Sedin was trying to accomplish. And that would eventually invoke memories of other things that he would do damn near anything to avoid thinking about.

He forced himself out of that downward spiral by focusing on his report and a mild anti-depressant that he _was _prescribed to use, but tried to avoid doing so. It didn't stop the churning sensation in his stomach, but dulled it enough for him to pretend he was getting his work done.

Three hours later, he had managed to almost completely compose something that almost resembled something he could submit to the Council. But by that point, another development would cause an amendment that would render the written report superfluous, because it was one that the Council would want to _hear _about, rather than _read_.

"Captain to the bridge." Smoke declared over the comm.

Whatever it was, it was something big enough that Smoke was all business, succinct and with no banter to the summons. Marshall had a pretty good guess why, and he wasn't disappointed when he emerged onto the bridge.

"No name for the planet below." Chipper informed as she pointed to the horizon arc of said planet barely visible through the front screen. "Completely uncharted. Second planet of the system marked Kaliss 3-31 by asari catalogs."

Dani took a deep breath, dejected by the news even though she knew for some time that it was a statement she was going to make eventually. "The beacon trail ends here, Captain."

"And you can say with certainty that there are no other beacons in range, Dani?"

Ensign Mayes took over, projecting a scan of the planet onto the center of the bridge. It zoomed in on the northern hemisphere and a location near the ice cap on a smaller continent located near its arctic circle. Color enhancement highlighted a specific and clearly man-made structure. "We really didn't need to look once we found that, sir. The shape and dimensions are a perfect match to the SSV Normandy SR-2."


	60. Chapter 60

_Author's Note: Oi... 60 chapters now. I'd say I wasn't expecting to compose a tale this large, but I'd be kinda lying._

**Chapter 60**

Marshall knew his Old Alliance history, and no matter what irrational spite he might have for the _Normandy's _commander, he knew and respected the fact that he was hovering roughly one hundred kilometers over one of the most iconic vessels to ever bear the SSV designation. Many of the _Iwo Jima's _own systems were first derived from the two _Normandy _vessels.

It was something that Marshall had found odd, honestly; as the bulk of the original design had been turian, and merely constructed by the alliance and slapped with their colors. And the SR-2 that they had just located had been designed and built by _Cerberus_. The most famed ship in Alliance history was barely managed by the Systems Alliance at all.

"Smoke, find Wrex, and both of you get to the bay to gear up." Marshall ordered. "Dani, you've got the bridge."

"Aye aye." The two commanders said in unison, each quickly following their captain's orders.

Chipper yielded the helm to Mayes to prep the shuttle, joining Marshall and Smoke in the elevator down. Marshall stopped the elevator at the crew deck, only stopping to say, "Keep going, I'll catch up in a moment."

He took long strides across the hall and into the galley, stopping at the mess counter. "Aethyta!"

The asari matriarch nearly dropped the frying pan she was working with at Marshall's shout, but nonetheless a splatter of hot oil splashed onto the counter and nearly on the forearm of Petty Officer Tourette.

"Were you not taught 'indoor voice' when you were little, Spectre?" The matriarch grumped as she quickly snatched a sponge from the shelf above to clean up the spill.

Marshall grinned; perhaps he enjoyed annoying Aethyta just a little more than he rightfully should. "We've found the Normandy." He said nonchalantly. "I figured it would interest you. I was going to tell you to get down to the armory and gear up, but if that's not big news to..."

He would _not _have figured that the matriarch would be able to hurdle the counter and hit the ground dashing for the elevator with a sprinter's speed before he could even finish his sentence had her heels not just about clipped his chin from the maneuver.

Even more astonishing that it was merely the _second _most nimble maneuver in that stretch of time... eclipsed by Petty Officer Tourette's standing jump onto the prep table and balancing on the narrow surface to avoid the splattering oil from the pan Aethyta had dropped in her haste.

"I'll... I'll clean this up, sir. I suspect you should be going." The petty officer said in a dazed awe at her own unexpected agility. "I guess you _do _learn to move quick in Matriarch Aethyta's kitchen after all."

* * *

><p>It was probably a good thing that Aethyta was strapped down in the shuttle chair as it made entry into the atmosphere... because the way that her feet were drumming on the floor suggested she'd be literally bouncing off the walls if she hadn't been anchored.<p>

Had it been anyone else, Marshall would have probably told them to settle down and act more professionally. But if he had been in Aethyta's position, and Kelsey was down there, at best alone and at worst dead, he'd probably have tossed Chipper off of the helm and attempted a less than ideal quick atmospheric descent.

"We have a faint comm signal." Chipper noted. "But it's too weak for us to transmit anything to. Looks like it's been on for some time running on battery power. Maybe once I've got you dropped, you'll be able to get a better connection."

There was a crackling sound of barrier contact underneath their feet, and the _Yukon _following with a sharp upward climb before leveling two seconds later. "Chipper, report." Marshall ordered simply.

The pilot didn't take her eyes off the helm. "Automated turrets surrounding the Normandy site, Captain. Apparently, they didn't like our approach vector. Not a major concern for me, sir, those relics probably couldn't even scratch the paint with barriers down, but you probably don't want to try and unload through live fire."

Wrex and Smoke shared a glance, which the Commander shrugged too. "Wouldn't be the first time for me, Lieutenant." Smoke said dismissively.

Wrex nodded in agreement. "Nor for me."

Aethyta level a steely glare at them both. "Speak for yourselves."

Marshall ignored the banter. "Set us down outside the turrets' range, Chipper. We'll figure out how to deal with them."

"Aye aye, sir."

Marshall then regarded the other three. "Combat seasoned veterans, like those on the Normandy no doubt would have been, don't just set up a defensive perimeter for shits and giggles. If they've got weapons set to fire on sight, there's a reason... and I'd like to have a better idea what that reason is."

Marshall didn't want to tell Aethyta what he was suspecting, but as they locked eyes, her expression dropped noticeably, and he could tell she had the same thought. Automated turrets, a dying comm signal, and no other signs of life painted a picture of no one home and not bothering, or able, to turn off the lights.

The _Yukon _began its descent again, this time touching down with no incident. "Not going to be the easiest path for ya, folks." Chipper explained. "About two kilos of rocky waste with high cliffs that'll expose to the elements and attacks from above. Current temperature -10 degrees centigrade and winds of up to 35 kilos an hour."

"In other words, make sure our seals are tight, and be ready for anything." Marshall said. "Move out, folks. I really don't want to be planet side past sundown." He opened the hatch, dropping down onto the surface.

The first thing he noticed was that despite the cold, there was next to no precipitation. There looked to be some frost at higher elevations, but hardly snow capped peaks or a think blanket of white.

Smoke concurred as he jumped down and assessed the surroundings. "It's been below freezing in this region for a _very _long time, if it ever gets above freezing at all. I'd wager next to all this planet's water is in the ice pack to the north."

Aethyta ignored Wrex's offered hand down, as the krogan said, "Mmm... almost as bad as Noveria. Not quite as vicious of a wind though. Don't like how open it is, though. Lot of areas on these rises where you could set up ambushes, and no significant cover for anyone below."

"Agreed." Marshall answered, pointing up to the ridge. "But with the way that this cliff face is arranged, we'd need climbing equipment to get down from the ridge and into the valley the Normandy settled down in. I think our path is unfortunately laid out for us."

Wrex grumbled, "Figures. Who set down the Normandy in such a shitty position anyway?"

Marshall began to walk forward, waving his arm for the team to follow."I doubt they had much of a choice, Wrex. At that point in the craft's journey, I'm amazed they were able to set it down _at all_."

"I swear that this sort of thing is intentional." Wrex continued to complain. "There's no easy road. At all."

Smoke's eyes furrowed. "What? You mean like there's some higher power that conspires planet topography and events to give you the most difficult path forward in any given mission?"

"Sure as hell seems like it."

"That is so many levels of absurd I don't even know where to..."

"Captain!" Dani interrupted. "We have movement heading towards the ridge, seven lifeforms, apparently mounted, moving at a high rate of speed. Be ready!"

Wrex sighed. "I told ya..."

Marshall's eyes scanned his surroundings, and sure enough did not find what he would consider suitable cover. The only real advantage they had is that they knew _something _was coming, and would be ready. "Can you get any confirmation as to what they are, Iwo Jima?"

A second later, Dani replied, "No, sir. The scans we are getting are, not surprisingly, no species we have on record, but it suggests an exoskeletal species. However, we also aren't getting any indication of any high sophistication. If they are using any tech, it's not something we can detect or that they are using."

Marshall nodded. "Primitives. Most likely drawn here by our entry, and no doubt curious as to our proximity to the Normandy." That eased the tension somewhat... but at the same time, these sort of things could be real touchy. The galactic civilization from before the Reaper War avoided "tainting" pre-interstellar civilizations for a reason. The Salarian's "uplifiting" policy had went pear-shaped once, and that was really enough of that.

Wrex was of the same thought, taking his sidearm warily. "Always wanted to violate a galactic non-interference treaty again. I'd been involved on the _other _side once. Curious what it'd be like from _this _side of the exchange."

Marshall set his jaw, deciding not to entertain the krogan. "Dani, ETA?"

"Fifty three seconds at their current rate of speed." The quarian commander answered.

Marshall had become so desensitized to seeing alien species that time seemed to speed up rather than slow down from the anticipation. What _did _give him pause was the sight of the primitive people when they entered the party's line of sight.

The initial presumption that they were mounted was incorrect. They were in fact quadruped with another set of shorter arms along the vertical thorax section. The assessment that the beings carried an exoskeleton was correct... their appearance was actually quite similar to celophods, including the tentacles that hung from their faces.

The tentacles of the mouth of the being in the center of the formation flared, heralding a trilling cross between a honk and a roar. The other six followed their apparent leader, even to the point of hefting stone tipped spears strapped to their fur clothed backs that they threw in unison towards the party.

Six of those spears fell considerably short of their target due to the distance, while the seventh barely grazed Marshall's biotic barrier before being redirected harmlessly into the ground. In response, Marshall lifted his sidearm, and took three less-lethal warning shots directly above the head of the lead attacker.

The bursts that followed caused the would be ambushers to scatter and flee the ridge, squealing in a matter similar to frightened pigs. Wrex clicked his tongue and said, "They were stationary targets. How'd you miss?"

"Intentionally." Marshall answered simply. "Smoke, did you see what I saw?"

The command heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh good. I'm glad I wasn't imagining that."

Aethyta lowered her pistol as Marshall did the same. "What did you see? Are those... things... familiar to you?"

Smoke bit his lip before exhaling nervously. "Well... I'm not exactly a history buff, much less archeological... but I've seen renditions before. Those things looked very..."

"Reticulan." Marshall finished.

Wrex grunted curiously. "Odd. I was gonna say they looked kinda like the statues on Ilos that Shepard and our crew found when the entire mess with Saren was coming about. Those weren't four-legged though."

"Not all Reticulans were." Marshall explained. "As far as we could determine, there were two distinct subspecies of Reticulans; the statues you might have seen on Ilos were likely the scholars, taller, leaner, and biped. Those you saw there were similar to the warriors, more bulky, physically imposing, and as you can see quadruped."

"They couldn't have been Reticulan though." Smoke added skeptically. "If they were, they would have been running with something a bit more sophisticated than crude spears."

"One would think." Marshall replied. "But the number of interesting convergences on this planet makes me think there's some merit to the theory." With a glance to Aethyta, Marshall divulged more. "Shepard was determined in the later years of the Normandy's mission to find something he called the 'primary archive', which I have come to believe is a cache of Reticulan knowledge that items like the Reticulan Chronicle could unlock."

Marshall cast a glance back to the abandoned ridge. "The presence of something supiciously similar to what my homeworld believes to be Reticulans on this planet in conjunction with the Normandy's resting place tells me that this 'archive' is somewhere close."

"Normandy first; relics later." Wrex said with a tone that bordered more on order than suggestion.

"Obviously, as we know where _that _is." Marshall responded with a warning glare. Krogan chieftain or not, Marshall did not reach Captain rank without wanting to be in command, and was not going to let Wrex start barking too many orders.

Wrex caught onto the subtle hint of disapproval, nodding in deference to Marshall. Wrex knew there were times to butt heads over leadership; this was not one of them. As long as Brasser was back on the immediate task, that was enough.

And the galaxy thought krogan couldn't do subtlety.

The ridge did indeed pull away just before reaching the _Normandy_, and right into the range of the turrets set up on the perimeter. Even if antiquated, there were enough of them to overwhelm even their magnetic barriers before any of them could get through the line.

Using the bend as makeshift cover, Smoke noted, "The comm signal _is _stronger here. We might be able to get a comm through."

Marshall nodded. _If _anyone was there to answer. "Normandy, this is Spectre Marshall Brasser of the Citadel Council. Does anyone copy?" After several seconds of silence, he hailed again... with no response.

From the bridge, Dani noted, "Captain, Mayes has noticed something odd about the comm signal now that you've gotten close enough to analyze it."

"Go ahead, Mayes. What've ya got?"

"Captain, there's no variance in the connection." The ensign related. "What we thought was a dying signal was simply atmospheric interference. It's _intentionally _running on a low power draw, on two separate channels. One is secured, and only extends for about two hundred meters across, and linked to the turrets. The second is an open channel, broadcasting a little bit stronger, but not by much."

A light went off in Marshall's head, and a quick look towards Smoke revealed that his old friend had reached the same conclusion. "Smoke and I have seen this before, haven't we?"

The commander returned the knowing grin, and said, "Hell yeah, we have."

Seeing Wrex and Aethyta's questioning expressions, Marshall explained. "We're looking at a frontier IFF system, conjured up by Old Alliance Black Ops teams starting with the First Contact War. The open channel is waiting for a password, and if the central computer hears the right one, it will put the turrets offline for a short while to allow passage."

"Heck of a lot less time, effort, money, and resources than standard IFFs, if a bit less secure." Smoke added. "Whoever put this together perhaps rightfully figured the natives weren't going to crack the code anytime soon."

"And we will?" Wrex said. "Granted, I knew some of the crew pretty well, but I sure as hell ain't gonna be guessing any password."

"Little Wing."

That short line did indeed put the turrets into standby; Wrex, Smoke, and Marshall all turning their heads in Aethyta's direction.

"It was the nickname I and Benezia gave Liara when she was a child." The matriarch explained. "It seemed like a good first guess. Meanwhile, in the time you've spent gawking, those turrets have been waiting. I'd rather not have those things turn back on three meters from leaving the dead zone."

The three cringed in unison. "Right." Marshall replied, "Alright, let's move. Make it quick."

The rush turned out to not be necessary, as it was nearly twenty seconds after the crossed the defensive line before the turrets went back online. "Clearly programmed with... older people... in mind." Smoke noted. He drifted off to the periphery while the rest of the team were enraptured by the sight of the _Normandy_.

The years had not been kind, as Marshall rather expected. The years and exposure to sun had faded the enamel to near nothing, the lettering of the ship's call sign barely visible and faded against the tarnished titanium hull. The folding engine sections had snapped completely off of the vessel, now bearing the light dusting of what little moisture had settled on the flanges. The cargo ramp was locked into the down position, offering a potential view of the interior had it not been cloaked in shadow. It was a sad end to such a famed craft.

Wrex agreed. "That ain't right. It deserved better."

"They all deserved better, ship _and _crew." Marshall said with shocking earnestness. No matter his feelings of the burden of Shepard's legacy, that didn't mean he wished Shepard or anyone a cold, lonely death on an uncharted frozen desert.

"Ghost." Smoke shouted. "Over here."

Smoke had moved to the starboard of the ship, and once Marshall joined him, he pointed to what he wanted the team to see. Five plain rocks, stuck vertically into the frozen ground, marking five raised mounds that had clearly been dug out than covered. Marshall could see the glimmer of Alliance dog tags on chains hanging from the stones.

"Grave markers." Marshall said grimly, casting a sympathetic glance to Wrex and Aethyta behind him.

"Well, don't just stand there." Wrex said. "Let's find out who they are. No sense dragging out the bad news."

With a nod, Marshall took the lead, approaching the graves. Kneeling down next to the nearest headstone, he lifted the tags to read what had been engraved. "Lieutenant Steve Cortez."

Moving to his right, he read the next one. "Lieutenant Ken Donnelly."

Smoke had already taken position to the one next over while Marshall moved to the second row. "Lieutenant Gabriella Donnelly."

Marshall took back over once he had located the next ones. It hadn't been dog tags, instead it had been a panel from what looked like a crew locker, and affixed with an adhesive that had apparently failed, dropping the panel nameplate down onto the ground. "Javik."

The last resumed the dog tag identification. "Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams."

Wrex dropped his head in remembrance, while checking off names mentally. "That leaves Shepard..." then with an aside glance at Aethyta, "and Liara."

Marshall straightened, and did a quick examination of his surroundings, finding no other indication of any other mounds or grave markers. "Well, _someone _buried them, and I'm guessing it wasn't Shepard. These graves were dug with biotics I wager... no signs of tools at all."

"Not to mention it'd be hard as hell to dig into this earth." Smoke added, stomping his foot onto the ground for effect."

"At any rate, I don't think we're going to find much more of use out here." He gestured to the _Normandy_, and added, "I think it's time we went inside."

* * *

><p>The first thing that caught Marshall's eye was the presence of two shuttles. Smoke noticed it too, slapping the hull of the port side shuttle and commenting, "This thing looks damn near new. I wonder if it could still fly."<p>

Marshall suspected it could. He also suspected that was because Liara never actually _used _the shuttle, or if she did, it wasn't for very long. They were going to find the last two unaccounted for members of the _Normandy's _crew on this planet. The only question was where... and in what condition.

Wrex made note of the weapons locker. "A pistol and a submachine gun are missing." He said, running his hand along the grooves where the weapons would be and noting a lack of dust. "Taken recently, I suspect. That was Liara's preferred loadout."

Smoke had moved to the elevator, tapping a call command. "Elevator's offline. Could be broken down or disabled to preserve power."

Wrex stepped forward. "There are maintenance ladders in the hall between the armory and engineering, if I remember right. I didn't spend too much time on this ship, you see." He stopped in front of the doors, and nodded. "These are powered down as well. Gonna have to open them manually."

Further evidence that the Normandy was not abandoned, or at least not abandoned for long, was found as Wrex pulled the doors open with ease, rather than having to struggle; as well as the rush of warm air from the other side.

Marshall's lips tightened. "Well, let's hurry up, folks. Don't waste the heat."

Once through, Aethyta closed the door behind her, while Smoke moved on to engineering, and Wrex began to search for the service ladder he thought existed. Smoke almost immediately called out for Marshall, and once he entered engineering, the commander declared, "Yep. The core's still operational, just on a very low draw. Pretty much life support only." With a conspiratorial glance to make sure Aethyta wasn't in earshot, he added quietly, "Someone was here recently, I'd wager."

Marshall nodded, "Which makes the lack of a presence or response an ill omen." He really didn't want to have to tell Aethyta that they potentially missed finding her daughter alive by a handful of days at most.

"Help Wrex find the ladder." Marshall said with more volume.

Aethyta, however, was hardly naïve, and caught onto the attempt at subtlety the moment Marshall returned to the hall. "You _can _tell it to me straight, Spectre." She said with an air of gloom. "There's no reason she wouldn't be here if she was still alive."

"Or she is currently off-site." Marshall said.

"Where?" Aethyta grumped. "That shuttle hasn't been touched. She's nowhere on site. Anything in walking distance would have put her within the reach of those primitive Reticulans you were talking about."

"Until we find a body, I'm not declaring _anyone _dead or alive, and neither should you."

"Found it!" Wrex yelled, then froze when Aethyta and Marshall glared him down. He pointed at the ladder that had been pulled from the hatch above, and said, "The... ladder. I... found it."

It wasn't exactly designed for krogan in mind, but it was large enough for all four to proceed at least. "Smoke, Aethyta; climb up to the command deck. Wrex and I will search the crew deck."

Smoke took the lead, followed by the matriach, Marshall, the Wrex taking the rear. The first pair continued on as Marshall and Wrex slid out the hatch corresponding to the third deck in where the AI Core had once been.

"You figure if Liara's body is on the Normandy, that it'll most likely be here." Wrex surmised. "And if it is, you don't want Aethyta to be the first one to see it."

"Pretty much." Marshall answered, as he pushed open the door out into the primary walkway.

"You realize she probably knows that, right?"

"Mmm hmm."

Wrex nodded as he followed Marshall out of the AI Core. "Alright, as long as we're on the same page."

The mess hall that was directly to the port of the AI Core had a fair share of dust, which would not be surprising considering that there would be all of one denizen at that time. One place that was vacant of said dust was a single table, tucking into the fore section of the mess hall.

In the sink behind the counter was a single plate and cutlery, rinsed but not cleaned. Wrex opened the waste bin, took a sniff, and said, "This isn't particularly old. No more than a couple days, I'd wager."

Marshall sighed at more evidence of very recent habitation. "So, we know that _someone_ has been on board recently, and it's a pretty good guess as to who. So where the hell is she?"

As if in answer, Smoke reported in. "Ghost... you're not going to want to see this, but I think you're gonna have to."

Marshall asked. "Did you find Doctor T'Soni?"

"No, sir. Just... just come up to the CIC."

Wrex and Marshall shared a knowing look. If it wasn't Liara, there was only one other option it could be.

* * *

><p>Smoke was waiting at the entrance to the Combat Information Center, and he stepped aside to reveal was all the fuss was about.<p>

A single sleeping pod, no doubt brought up from the crew deck using the elevator when it was operational, set horizontally in front of where the commanding officer would stand in front of the main projector.

Wrex didn't have the outburst of grief like he did when they had found Tali, but only because he had been expecting a scenario much like this for some time, and had steeled his expression for it. But the sight still rattled him profoundly as his meaty hands dropped onto the tube, splatters of moisture dropping onto the rounded surface and slowly running towards the floor.

Marshall felt a tsunami of conflicting emotions as he approached, Aethyta stepping back to give him room. A mix of disgust, anger, rage, regret, self-loathing, sadness all churning in a ball in his gut. No matter the legacy that Shepard had created, no matter the torment Marshall had suffered in his name, the burden or expectations or slanted history... it was lost in the value the man must have had to others that wrote in faded red paint "Our beloved commander; may he finally have peace" upon the surface.

As respectful and reverent as the memorial was; Marshall couldn't help but feel that the remains of the man that once spearheaded the galactic defense in the Reaper War deserved more than to be forgotten by the Council that commissioned him, and certainly more than to be left to die on some isolated world in the middle of the galactic nowhere.

At this point, Shepard was nothing more than bones and the clothes he had been interred in, at least what was visible through the small glass on the pod. For but a moment, nothing else in the universe existed but Marshall and what was left of the man that indirectly brought him to this very point.

"So we finally meet face to face... Commander Shepard."


	61. Chapter 61

_Author's Note: There were a handful of people thinking that there might be a little asari hiding somewhere on the Normandy. To be honest, that was a scenario I considered myself, and if Liara had been the overwhelming romance option (like Tali turned out to be), I suspect it would have made the cut._

_But as this particular version shaped up... it really didn't work. It struck me as horribly irresponsible of Liara, and not something she would do in this situation with the Shepard that emerged in this narrative._

**Chapter 61**

Marshall knew there was a lingering memory attached to the makeshift casket, he could sense it right underneath Wrex's left palm while the krogan fought back sobs and mutterings of regret for not being there when he was needed. It was a matter of finding a way to get Wrex to step aside that didn't make Aethyta suspicious.

"Hey, Wrex... can I get a look from that angle, I think there's something else in there... but I'm not sure what it is."

Wrex's brows furrowed. "Whattya mean?"

Aethyta saw right through the ruse. "Damnit, Spectre, stop trying to coddle me. He means you're standing right on top of an empathic connection and he's hoping it might shed some light on where the hell my daughter is."

Marshall exhaled in defeat, and Wrex yelped. "Oh!" Before shuffling quickly to his right and adding, "All yours, Brasser. Work your magic."

Marshall forced the maelstrom of emotions back behind his duty. Even if he _really _didn't want to delve into this particular memory (and experiencing Liara's regret for her unrequited love), if there was _anything _within that memory that could offer some answers, he had to see it.

He slapped his right hand down on the spot, far harder and faster than he needed to, creating a metallic clang that rang and died in his ears as his consciousness was overwritten by his contact memory.

* * *

><p>The Shepard that now appeared within the sleeping pod window was still flesh... if barely, as much of him was wrinkles and silver hair. The feeling he got from the memory was that this wasn't long past the <em>Normandy <em>reaching it's final resting place. If he got to see the fruit of his labor, it wasn't for very long.

Further evidence of that could be found as Liara looked up from the tube, and saw the other members of the crew (now interred outside), still quite alive, looking as morose and deflated as Liara no doubt looked.

"I don't get it." Gabriella Donnelly said, her husband gently hugging her shoulders. "He was... he was fine yesterday."

"Death can happen suddenly." Laira said tiredly. "It happens when you... get old."

Javik cut right to the heart of the issue that needed to be addressed. "The asari understands that now that our commander is gone, she no longer has an excuse to linger here and not continue the mission."

Marshall could literally _hear _Liara's teeth grinding. "No, it means the mission _can't _continue. I can't do what you and Shepard thought I could do."

"That is not true..."

Liara finally spun about, her rage boiling over. "_It is true!_ I've _tried_, day after day after_ day_... following your damn instructions and meditations. It _doesn't work for me_!"

Javik crossed his arms defiantly. "Because you haven't been trying hard enough. You've been distracting yourself with the commander, not wanting to assume his position because you were afraid he'd have nothing to live for."

"How... _dare_... you..."

"And now he is dead. And you are not ready. Because you did not want to be."

Liara's hands balled into fists, furious; but before she could make any response either verbal or physical, Javik had stepped away. "I will be outside in meditation. If you wish to continue your lessons, _seriously _this time, you know where you can find me for what little time _I _have remaining."

Javik left, Liara's vision dropping to the floor, her head hanging shamefully. "I... _was_ trying. Whatever ability Shepard had... I just... don't."

She felt Ash's hand drop comfortingly on her back. "I know. You've done your best, and far more than any of us have been able to. That old bug shouldn't be judging you considering he can barely roll out of bed without breaking his legs."

"We've been asking everything out of you as it is." Ken added. "I dunno how much more we could rightfully expect."

Liara turned back towards Shepard's "casket," and lifted her head towards the bridge, where the blast shields had been dropped to show the exterior of this iceball world. Just over the curve of the hill was the archive that Shepard had sought; and a million questions that could use answering.

"There are still things that we can all do." Liara said, her composure restored. "Shepard believed that one day, someone would follow our footsteps. The more we can learn about this archive, the beings who built it, and what else is needed to unlock the secrets within it... the better off those people will be when they catch up."

* * *

><p>Marshall's head had followed Liara's path, as he was looking through that same opened blast shield roughly thirty years later. Even if Doctor T'Soni wasn't somewhere out there, at least alive, the "archive" that Shepard sought most certainly was.<p>

"Wrex, you're with me." Marshall said, eyes remaining focused on the view outside. "Smoke, Aethyta, hold position here."

Immediately, Aethyta was suspicious. "What did you discover?"

"I didn't discover _anything_." Marshall growled. "When I _do_, Matriarch, you will be the first to know."

Marshall stomped back towards the service ladder, Wrex quickly falling in step behind, warning the captain, "Don't get _too _pissed off at the woman. She's worried sick, and scared shitless of what we are most likely to find."

"I know that." Marshall growled. "If I didn't, I'd have lifted than thrown her into lower planetary orbit by now."

That earned a playful chuckle from Wrex as he wedged himself into the small shaft. The krogan barely fit on the way up, and going down wasn't any easier, but it was better than staying on the _Normandy_ while Aethyta wore a hole in the floor. Well... that and it was _really _unnerving to walk around this ghost ship.

Marshall stopped at the bottom of the ramp, trying to locate the particular path that he had seen from his position on the CIC. It was easy to miss from ground level, as the natural curve of the hill and the slope of the ridge blocked it from view both going to, and coming from, the _Normandy_. You'd have to know it was there.

"We're going back where we came?" Wrex asked as Marshall disabled the turrets, and up to the crest of the hill, where he pointed to the small trail that branched off from the course they had traveled initially.

"That way." Marshall said. "I'd wager Doctor T'Soni is that way."

"The question is in what condition."

"Precisely."

Wrex then gestured forward around Marshall's right. "Then lead on, Captain."

The first thing Marshall noticed as they took the turn onto the narrower side trail towards what he figured was the "primary archive" that had been Shepard's goal was the return of the Reticulan-like lifeforms gathering at the top of the ridge, in much greater numbers.

"Looks like we've got an audience." Wrex said, seeing the same thing.

"As long as they stay up there, they can watch all they want." Marshall replied, "But if our trip is garnering interest, I think that's a little confirmation we're on the right path."

Wrex had next to no idea about the Reticulans that had supposedly millions of years before developed much of the technology Captain Brasser's home of Reticuli Prime utilized. Hell, he didn't even doubt the idea that these lifeforms were Reticulan. Wrex had heard about all numbers of species that had damn near bombed themselves back into the Stone Age. The krogan were one of them, though not to the degree that the Reticulans would have done. Evolution wasn't always a one way street.

"You're sure those are Reticulans, then?"

"Unless I were to extract a gene sample from one of them, there'd be no way to be certain, and even that probably wouldn't be conclusive." Marshall stated. "But I suspect, considering the circumstances, that they are the genetic ancestors of what were once known as Reticulan soldiers. From what we understand of their civilization, the soldiers were not particularly intelligent. They were designed to be base grunts, barely aware of their own existence. Genetically programmed to point and shoot. It's not a stretch to think that, lacking a member of their scholar subspecies, that this would be the result... and possibly the point."

Wrex raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Marshall made another wary glance towards the top of the cliff to make sure none of the Reticulans had made any potentially aggressive shifts. "I might have spooked seven of them earlier, but if _all _of them up there decided we were a threat that _needed _to be neutralized... the two of us likely would not last very long. I was the end result of a long process of selective breeding much like the Reticulans did with their soldier subspecies... and even then, I wouldn't gamble on being their physical equal even _with _biotic talent. Set them up as 'guards' as you will, and the Reapers might even not give their low-tech 'civilization' a first glance."

Wrex took that information to a logical conclusion. "And if they had found Liara unprotected..."

"We probably won't find a body at all." Marshall finished grimly. "If that's the case, I _really _don't want Matriarch Aethyta to know that. We can just say we couldn't find any sign of her, and let her down that way."

Wrex nodded. "They don't seem all that aggressive though. Outside of that initial exchange, and they sure didn't seem keen on fighting it out even then."

"Seems like it. But you never know with an intelligence barely above sentient what will set them off."

A sign that Liara was not entirely unprotected out here was found at the discover of another perimeter of automated turrets. The same password even temporarily disabled them, allowing Marshall and Wrex passage to what looked to be a perfectly natural cave formation at first glance. Even the thirty meters didn't show any signs of being out of place.

Then Marshall felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, and a barely perceptible crackle of energy hit him. Wrex sensed it too, his hands moving to his Zwiehander. "What was that?"

"A wave of biotic energy. Low frequency and intensity." Marshall replied. "More Reticulan technology, we suspect as a way to ID beings as Reaper or not. Reaperized and synthetic life forms reflect biotic energy differently than organics."

Wrex nodded. He remembered something way back during the Reaper War to that effect, and could be handy to detect indoctrinated agents, but that Council scientists hadn't figured out a way to make such identification methods viable. "So... what did _that _accomplish?"

At that point, the entire cave shook, but it was a movement that apparently was not unique to the locale, as nothing short of a handful of loose gravel from the cave ceiling dropped to the floor. Not only had it happened before... it had likely happened very recently.

Even more importantly was what the rumbling revealed. It had come from the entire south wall parting at an invisible seam, and revealing a discernibly artificial construction of a smooth, warmly lit ramp further down into the earth.

"Well then. Answered _that _question." The krogan said simply.

Marshall drew his sidearm, prompting Wrex to follow suit, as they both took the ramp into the descent. "Kind of the Reticulans to leave on the lights, huh?" Wrex noted. "Not used to these ominous trips being so well-lit." As his eyes scanned the architecture, he added, "Ya know, this kinda reminds me of a planet called Ther..."

Marshall would have had to have been brain dead to not notice Wrex's strangled stop. "What?" He asked with a hint of annoyance.

"Nothing."

"Has to do with Shepard, I take it?"

"Yep."

Marshall sighed. "Ya know what's almost as annoying as people who compare me to Shepard?"

"What's that?"

"People who start walking on eggshells about the man around me."

Wrex took a couple deep breaths, gauging how the human would react. "It's just that the architecture here reminds me a lot of a Prothean site on Therum. It's funny because Shepard, I, and Garrus actually went to that site... looking for Liara, of all people."

Marshall had to admit the parallel would be amusing to Wrex. "Really. How'd that play out?"

Wrex chuckled at his own recollection. "Well... we found Liara in a... hello." Wrex had been distracted by the sight at the bottom of the ramp. "I think this might be important, ya think?"

Marshall had holstered his sidearm as he approached the collection of equipment, computers, and bedding supplies in the center of the landing. All had the look of being used recently, which would mesh with the other evidence found.

"Looks like we found Doctor T'Soni's base camp." Marshall remarked before his attention was pulled towards something else while Wrex started accessing Liara's personal log that he had found next to her bedding.

At the southernmost section of the landing was another large set of doors, lording over what looked much like a rectangular altar. Upon the surface were seven grooves, three of which were already filled with the Reticulan artifacts that Shepard and the _Normandy _crew had uncovered. Characters that Marshall recognized as the Reticulan language were apparently etched onto the surface, though the surface itself was undeniably smooth. Running his hand along the top helped him discover that the black smudges were actually attempts to decipher what the characters meant.

Wrex had followed Marshall to the altar-like construction, and noticed the smudges as well. "Girl was trying to figure out what it was saying. Wonder how far she got?"

"Unless she was a genius beyond peer, probably not far at all. Until Reticuli Prime found the Prothean efforts to decipher the language, they had gotten next to nowhere. As it is... and I really don't want to do this... we're gonna have to call Lieutenant Michal down here. I could just make images of it all, but she'd complain it's not quite the same. She's probably right."

"She knows this language?"

"As much as anyone I'd wager, and even that's not all of it. It'd at least be a start."

Wrex gestured for Marshall's direction attention. "Well, I got another start for us to look at in the meantime." He held out Liara's log, and said, "Listen to this."

Wrex then replayed the log entry in question, and Liara's voice filled the space.

* * *

><p>"This... this archive, as Shepard called it, is truly a work of engineering unlike anything I had even seen from the Protheans or their densorin vassals, though I now suspect this race was where they drew considerable inspiration. Carbon dating places this facility at about 2.1 million years ago, and could possibly be the inusannon that Javik referred to as the species they had investigated during their dominant period over the galaxy. It uses many of the celestial mechanics that Javik claims his people adopted from the densorin, likely as a way to know when best to reveal itself and when to remain hidden."<p>

"The bulk of the actual information is most assuredly locked behind the gates that we need the artifacts for, but there are several wings that would appear to be deemed non-essential, and that is what I will focus my energy on. The inusannon used a language unlike anything I have seen, and even Javik was only able to discern pieces in the short time he had before his death. If I can somehow crack this ancient tongue, it will go a long way to helping those who follow."

"One thing Javik was able to learn was that there are many more artifacts than seven, though many are no longer operational. It makes sense to me, as they couldn't assume that one hundred percent of their artifacts would survive over eons. The scope of the artifact's dispersal, however, is not known... but if I could manage to extrapolate where more of them are, it would _also _be of great benefit to those who pick up the quest that Shepard was unable to finish."

* * *

><p>"Okay... so she was exploring this archive." Marshall said. "We kinda figured <em>that <em>much out already."

Wrex held up a finger, "Not done. Be patient, Spectre."

The krogan then played the next message on his queue.

* * *

><p>"I think I might have made a breakthrough in my study of the inusannon language. I'm going to experiment with the panel in the west wing that should allow me access to other non-essential parts of the archive. The more I uncover, the more chances I have to learn. Goddess knows there's not much else to do with my time."<p>

* * *

><p>Wrex showed Marshall the time stamp. "That was from two days ago, which would correspond with everything else we've found."<p>

Marshall turned to the west, where there was was, in fact, an open passageway that turned towards the north after about two hundred meters. Drawing his sidearm again, he said, "Then I believe it's time we go west, old man."

"Hey." Wrex protested, "Watch it with that 'old man' stuff. I could still kick your tail, old or not."

The hall that they assumed Liara had followed weaved north and down, flanked by empty rooms that at this point were devoid of any signs of life or technology, and no doubt had been since the Reticulans abandoned the facility. It would explain Liara's desire to proceed through any areas that were more secured, in the hopes that something more than empty rooms could be discovered. He doubted it, based on his homeworld's experience, but Liara wouldn't have known that.

As the hall wound its way back to the south, it forked. Marshall gestured for Wrex to head right, while he went left. Now the bland, featureless, lifeless trek continued without even the krogan's mildly amusing dry wit. But at long last, fortunes changed, as Marshall found the end of the hall's progress as it expanded into another landing, and a slight hum of active energy.

Said energy was molded in the form of a stasis field, in which a humanoid figure hovered in the center, facing the east wall where an active panel glowed a warning red. The figure's blue skin and crest of cartilage tendrils would have normally not been wearing a standard Systems Alliance field uniform... unless said asari had been a _Normandy _crew member.

His HUD flashed results of his scans, showing still active biological functions, the best damn news Marshall had received this entire mission. "Doctor Liara T'Soni, I presume?" He finally said in greeting.

For all his scans were saying she was alive, the asari's reaction would have demonstrated anything but. Knowing that stasis fields only froze primary muscle movement, Marshall spoke again to try and get her attention. "I must say that it's a relief to finally find someone _alive _on this long winding path you and your crew sent us on."

Finally, that stirred _something _in the asari woman, as Liara slowly and deliberately turned her ice blue eyes in Marshall's direction in a way that he could have only described as "very, very creepy." She still didn't speak, merely focusing with open scrutiny on the human trying to communicate with her.

Unnerved by the stare-down, Marshall asked again, "Doctor T'Soni?"

"I am trying to decide if you are a hallucination or not." She finally spoke, with a voice cracked and worn from what might have been years of disuse. "I've had many, even some much like this. Like convincing myself a meteorite was an Alliance vessel five years ago."

Marshall nodded, such mind tricks were not uncommon for humans marooned and isolated; he figured it wouldn't be _that _much different for an asari. "I take it you've been alone for a while."

"Ten years since Gabby died." Liara answered.

A decade of isolation followed by about two days trapped in stasis? Marshall was astonished Liara wasn't a raving lunatic. "Well, I'm afraid I doubt anything I can say would prove I'm real."

"You _could _figure out how to disable this stasis." Liara offered with blatant sarcasm. "That could go a _long _way."

Marshall tried not to laugh, and did manage to keep it down to a blurb of a chortle. "Well, I'm not an expert in the Reticulan language, but I can give it a shot."

Marshall tried to get as close as he could to the panel without crossing the boundary into the statis field himself while Liara gasped in amazement. "You... _are_... real."

Not breaking his concentration, he said, "Oh?"

The carefully guarded facade had crumbled at that point. Liara now sounded extremely fragile, mentally exhausted, and relieved. "Unless my hallucinations have gotten clever and started calling the isunannon something else, and I doubt that very much."

"Well, if I _am _a hallucination, then not only is your subconscious mind getting clever, it's _also _developing a sense of humor." Marshall stated, his fingers tracing the top line that was in the largest characters. "Because _this_, if I remember correctly, refers to the Reticulan equivalent of the head... and I don't mean in anatomical terms."

"I've served on my share of starships." Liara snarked. "You mean to tell me... I spent the last year and a half trying to break into a _bathroom_?"

"Seems that way."

"Figures. I've been wasting my time since the Normandy settled here. Why not one more gut punch to my efforts?" She then addressed Marshall directly, "However, since I am now more satisfied that you are not a trick of my own treasonous mind, I discover you have me at a disadvantage, sir."

Marshall stepped away and straightened so that the asari could get a better look at him. "Captain Marshall Brasser, Council Spectre. I and my crew were tasked to follow the Normandy, and discover the fate of it and its crew."

"A grim task it became, I'm sure." Liara remarked with sympathy before her tone shifted to curiosity. "And judging from the evidence that you still look vital and young rather than feeble and near death, I can safely assume that either the galaxy has repaired the mass relays or found an alternative. Either will be immensely useful, although judging the path the Normandy took, the latter might actually prove more beneficial."

"Well, fortunately, the latter we have." Marshall said. "However, a full briefing from both our perspectives can be done once we get you out of that stasis field. I'm afraid that it's going to be a bit though... we're going to need my comm lieutenant to take a look and see if the instructions to disable it are on that panel. In the meantime..." He then patched into his comm, and ordered, "Dani, have Jessie gear up and get Chipper to send her planetside. We're going to need her expertise. Wrex, get to my location ASAP. I've found Doctor T'Soni."

Liara's eyes bulged open. "Wrex? As in... _Urdnot _Wrex?"

Marshall was a bit shocked at Liara's reaction to the name. "Yes..."

"You have to get me out of here. _Now_."

That didn't help Marshall's concern. His hand drifted to his sidearm. "Why? Is... Wrex a threat to you? Are you _not _who I think you are, and Wrex would know that?"

The tension in Liara's muscles vanished, and her eyes grew weary. "No. I don't want him asking 'What is Liara doing trapped in a bubble?'"

After a short beat, she added tiredly, "Again."

* * *

><p>Of course, Wrex was the first one to rendezvous, and he milked the scene for <em>all <em>it was worth.

"Be serious with me. I mean... what are the _odds, _even given the lifespans of beings like you and me, that you'd get in this predicament _twice_?"

Liara's teeth visibly clenched in annoyance. "Considering I am an _archeologist _by trade, more likely than you might think."

"Oh? How many of your colleagues have gotten caught in a stasis bubble left behind by a long lost civilization on two separate occasions?"

Liara's glowering silence spoke volumes.

"How about _once_?"

If looks could kill, Wrex's redundant vital organs might not have been enough to save him.

At that point, Jessie damn near skipped into the room. "Sorry it took so long, sir. Chipper wanted to make sure I was nice and bundled up. God, it _is _cold, isn't it?" Taking a long look at Liara, Jessie finally said, "Hi!"

"Hello." Liara answered following Jessie as she ducked around the stasis field to snap an image of the panel in question.

"Hunh." Wrex said with a grunt, "So... she's just gonna take some stills and translate it with her omni-tool?" With a glance and a point to Marshall, he added, "Hell, _you _coulda done _that_."

Marshall pursed his lips, and said pointedly, "Shut it."

Jessie's eyes lit up happily, "Oh, I can't _wait _to start translating the big stuff in the main landing, but first things first! Anyway, Doctor, I think I know why this happened. The main systems here most likely identified you as female. That was a male head. Reticulans were _real _modest about gender mixing, we figure."

"Figures that I stumble upon a puritanical and patriarchal culture." Liara groused.

"No worries!" Jessie replied, regarding her omni-tool carefully. "If I read this right, the console that disables the field should be in a scholar's chamber a few meters down..." She began pacing out the distance that she had determined, "Then a left... ah-hah!" She chirped happily as her directions did indeed place her in front of one of the many rooms adjoining the hall. "Have you out in two shakes of a bunny's tail, Doctor!"

Liara sighed. "Now I'm _certain_ you aren't hallucinations. My mind would _never _conjure a figment like her."

The asari's frame then jerked, and she howled in agony, visible arcs of electricity dancing around and through the statis bubble for two seconds before it stopped just as abruptly.

"Whoops! That was a shock correction protocol!" Jessie yelped. "Sorry!"

Wrex startled chuckling, prompting Liara to growl, "_You_... I will smack."

Seconds later, Wrex found his normally staunch attraction to the ground abandon him. Realizing that he and Marshall were now floating, and that Wrex was losing his alignment with all three axis, he grumbled, "What the...?"

"Oh hey... null grav!" Jessie remarked. "Wonder what _that _was for? Don't worry! I'll fix it!"

She did very quickly, restoring the planet's natural gravitational pull almost immediately after her announcement. Marshall quickly righted himself in mid-fall like a cat, landing cleanly on two feet with one hand for stability. Wrex's return to normalcy was far less graceful, dropping face first with a grunt of pain and a deep thud.

"Nevermind." Liara almost sang.

"Sorry about that folks. There's a lot of stuff on this console I can't read... so I'm kinda guessing. This... should do it... maybe?"

Third time was the charm, as the stasis bubble promptly dissipated; the suddenness and a balance unused in some time not quite enough to keep Liara upright, requiring Marshall to catch and right her before she had an unceremonious fall onto her rump.

"Thank you." She said as she regained her bearings.

Aethyta then burst into the landing, clearly on a mission that ended with an awestruck silence and dropped jaw as she saw the daughter that she had been convincing herself that she would never see again.

Liara watched as Aethyta approached, unable to form anything but a single word. "Father."

The matriarch couldn't even manage that much, her voice abandoning her as her arms wrapped around her daughter. As if unable to remember how to return the embrace, she stood stiff as a board for several nervous moments until her arms gingerly, tentatively moved to hug her father.

Only then did the dam Liara had built emotionally burst, and the tears of a lost young woman finally found were allowed to flow.


	62. Chapter 62

_Author's Note: Believe it or not, I had **intentionally **avoided any descriptions of the primary character, but I think at this point, Liara would definitely find it something worth noting._

_Author's Note #2: I also apologize for the fairly long delay... between my jobs and my first book launch (feel free to check my profile for more details), it's taken a long time to put this all together. I can't promise more prompt updates either... I do apologize._

**Chapter 62**

Liara discovered just how hopeless her attempts to decipher the Reticulan language was once Jessie got to work on the central "altar" within the archive.

"So they called themselves the Reticulans, then?" Liara asked the captain in charge of the expedition that found her.

"We... actually don't know." Marshall answered. "That's just what _we _decided to call the species since we found the artifact on Reticuli Prime."

Now that his helmet was off (which had reminded her a little _too _much of a Cerberus Phantom's for her liking), she could finally get a good look at the man who had found the _Normandy's _resting place. Shamefully, her first thought was that he resembled Jacob Taylor... which she quickly decided was a terrible generalization because they didn't look the slightest bit similar, outside of a darker skin tone and a well sculpted physique.

Not even the skin color was all that alike, really. Marshall was lighter than she remembered Jacob being, as were his eyes and hair, and his features more angular. Kasumi had called Jacob a "babyface", or something to that effect; Liara doubted the master thief, had she been alive, would have said the same for captain in front of her.

She forced her mind away from her appraisals, and onto the planet that she surprisingly found she recognized. "Reticuli Prime?" She asked in curiosity, "I remember going there once. You say you found an artifact from this species on your planet?"

"One of those, in fact." Marshall replied, gesturing to the orbs that Shepard had been seeking during the latter two-thirds of his life. "That chronicle had given the baseline information for the MEMO that your crewmates had secured... and indirectly preserved the planet from the Crucible's discharge."

Liara chuckled in spite of herself. "Life is filled with ironies, isn't it? Shepard could have been within feet of something he had spent nearly sixty years searching for, and never known it at the time. How did you learn how to access it? Even Shepard couldn't manage more than details connecting them together."

Jessie piped up, lifting her head from her work. "From Prothean research found alongside it. They figured out a process to extract the stored information from the Chronicle, as well as deciphered much of the language they used." The comm lieutenant grimaced and said, "I do want to apologize for erasing your notes. I'm sure you spent a lot of time on them."

Liara could hear the guilt in Jessie's voice, prompting her to ask, "But...?"

Jessie bit her lower lip. "It was _all _wrong. I mean... you weren't even _close_... on _any _of it."

That did _nothing _to help Liara's sense of wasted time. She had spent the better part of thirty _years _trying to decipher the written text.

"It's not you, doctor!" Jessie amended hastily as she could see the disappointment on Liara's face. "This really isn't a language at all, in the sense that we know it. The Reticulans communicated through telepathic contact..."

"Much like the Protheans could, it would seem."

"Almost exactly, in fact. This language is more a code or a cipher, really... it's meant for species that don't have the Reticulans' talents to be able to use their knowledge. There's only about 2,000 distinct "words" within the language, as opposed to what I speak that has over 300,000. The trick is in the first character within each sentence, if you will. It's what I call the contextual modifier. Depending on that modifier, it changes the overall meaning of the other characters grouped with it. Thus 2,000 words have potential permutations in the _billions_."

"And without knowledge of that modifier, anyone trying to translate it is flailing in the dark." Liara surmised.

"Correct. We figured it was what amounts to a security mechanism to protect the information from the Reapers, who wouldn't have been able to access that knowledge, as it is biotically stored via residual memory."

Jessie then sighed in defeat. "Which leads me to our dilemma. The knowledge that my country has is... incomplete. We've figured out most of the patterns with the context modifiers that we have translated, but for any modifier we don't know... it's a blind shot in the dark. There's a _lot _of things here that I have no translation for. I was able to glean that there is a specific order that the artifacts need to be put into on this pedestal, but I have no idea what that order is, or how we're supposed to identify what artifact is which."

Wrex pointed lazily at Marshall and asked, "Can't _you _do that contact memory thing, Spectre?"

_That _got Liara's undivided attention as Marshall shook his head. "NMRD had thought of that idea nearly a decade ago. My contact memory isn't as refined as the Protheans was. I have very little control over what exactly I see; usually it's just the most profound memory the original holder had at the time, which was rarely of use."

Liara's mouth dropped and she said barely above a whisper, "Just like Shep..."

Her thought was cut off as Wrex and her father started gesturing wildly and shaking their heads. Marshall, on the other hand was regarding her darkly, his gaze suspicious and accusing.

"Finish your thought, doctor." He ordered through grit teeth.

Liara couldn't understand the ire that had settled in the room, but continued nervously, "Commander Shepard had a similar ability, though his needed to be amplified by nearby Prothean artifacts for it to be of use. It's how he gained the Cipher that allowed him to understand the Prothean's warning about the Reapers to begin with. Reticulan artifacts carried that ability as well, it would appear. I must ask... did you ever make contact with the artifact your country had?"

Marshall's expression softened... somewhat... but his annoyance was still visible. "No. I was a... transplant... from another country, as such I was never given clearance to access it personally. A 'security risk by official protocol' was the reason I and my superiors were given."

Liara had moved to the altar, shooing Jessie aside long enough for the asari to take the artifact on the right. As it had been for the last thirty damn years, Liara could feel... _something_... trying to congeal into her mind, but it always seemed just out of reach; never quite able to get the picture to come into focus. On that score, she had not been lying. No matter how much effort she put into learning the inherent skills that the Protheans held, it wasn't working.

She figured if this spectre here _could _do what Shepard could do... if he was receptive in the same way... then she _could_ gain that knowledge through the Asari's latent empathy, much like she gained knowledge of the Cipher and the Prothean warnings through Shepard. On _that _score, much to Liara's shame, Javik had been keenly accurate. She hadn't _wanted _to gain that knowledge... she hadn't wanted to accept and face that Shepard wouldn't be able to finish the mission, so she had avoided it.

"Could you try?" Liara finally asked, offering the artifact to the spectre.

He was reluctant, to say the least, something that was understandable to some extent. This sort of ability was still _very _new to humanity in relative terms. Even Shepard would have a moment's hesitation before he came in contact with Prothean artifacts.

But just as Liara expected, she watched as Marshall's eyes narrowed to dots, and glazed over from a lack of focus. That was a look she knew quite well from her memories of Shepard's exposure to these very artifacts.

The stupefied expression that followed once the artifact had finished its work a minute and a half later was also one she remembered. Marshall turned, silently put the artifact back on one of the slots, shook his head as if to clear it, then finally said, "That... was indeed informative."

Jessie bounced right in front of him, quivering with anticipation, "What did it show you? What did you learn, sir?"

Marshall dropped a hand on her shoulder to steady the lieutenant. "Nothing that meant much to me, honestly. These chronicles are what amount to primers, as far as I can tell... providing those with the ability to access them with the technology to find other chronicles that serve as the keys for the information stored here. I recognized the Mobius Core and Needlepoint Drive schematics, for example... and a lot of other things I didn't."

"Your technology was based off things derived from these artifacts?" Liara said in a tone between resignation and frustration. "Shepard claimed his mind was flooded with things he couldn't make heads of tails of whenever he accessed one of these artifacts."

"And the only reason I could was because I recognized them from efforts of those much more technologically inclined than me." Marshall said. "Had I no foreknowledge of them, I would have been just as in the dark. Clearly, the Reticulans envisioned that learned scholars would access these chronicles... not grunts like Shepard and I. An oversight that might explain why their efforts went unheeded for millions of years."

"Did you at least gain knowledge of where the others are?" Liara asked. That was the more important thing. Without that information, anything else was immaterial.

Marshall nodded slowly. "_That _much was burned into my memory. The Reticulans were clearly intent on making sure _that _stuck in whoever received their messages, at the very least. Oddly enough, though, I only got two of them. I assume there has to be more?"

"There's a 'range' to the connections, as far as I can tell. Shepard had gathered all the ones he could within the Normandy's reach. I'm certain there are others beyond what were linked to you. But it's a start." Liara then got nervous when she realized that she wasn't exactly sure what the extent of the spectre's mission was. "You... _will _pursue this further... right?"

Marshall didn't even have to give it thought. "Of course. You might not be aware of this, but it looks like the Leviathans are rebuilding their Reaper forces. We have two confirmed sightings of Reapers on Sur'Kesh and Parnack... as well as signs of Reaper influence on Eden Prime. As far as we can tell, Shepard's mission remains our best bet to end that threat once and for all."

Liara nodded, "I knew the Leviathans were up to something, I didn't realize their plans had advanced that far."

Jessie then snapped her fingers. "Oh! Captain, I was supposed to tell you. Lieutenant Commander Toole came down with me. Said that there was something on the Normandy that NMRD wanted to try and pick apart. An old AI, I think?"

Liara's eyes bulged, and her jaw set defiantly. "Like hell they will!"

She ignored Marshall's attempt to call her back as she stomped resolutely back towards the exit of the facility, only stopping to grab her helmet and jam it on her head. _Nobody _was going to rip apart EDI; that poor girl deserved better than to be dissected like some mere computer system.

* * *

><p>Lance had expected to be amazed at what he found in the AI Core of the <em>Normandy<em>. What he found himself amazed_ by_, however, was not something he had anticipated. It even took his beloved Maya by surprise... and she wasn't surprised by _anything_.

"Are you reading the same thing I am?" He asked to the projection on his omni-tool, both to confirm that she was receiving the data he had gathered, and that his assessment of said data was correct.

"I am, Lieutenant Commander." Maya replied. She was professional when on the job to a fault; even though with her length of service, she even outranked Captain Brasser in the Nimea chain of command. "It's certainly fascinating, but I do believe we should confirm these timestamps as actually being of relevance before we make any conclusive statements."

"Well, Doctor T'Soni is most likely still at the Reticulan Archive, but I'm sure Captain Brasser will swing back this way."

"_What do you think you are doing!_" Came an irate bellow from the entrance to the AI Core, followed by angered visage of an asari that wasn't Matriarch Aethyta.

"Or... she can pop right in here ready to kill us." Lance quipped darkly. "Doctor T'Soni, I presume?"

Liara stomped forward, not verbally answering the question, as Marshall stepped into the doorway. Even Lance's untrained eye for combat could tell that the captain's muscles were tensed, prepared to intervene if the situation escalated further. Apparently, T'Soni had been on a steadily increasing burn to the point that Marshall could not rule out violence.

Lance had to admit it probably didn't look to good on the doctor's end. Lance had pried open several of the housing panels, and had even partially extracted the blue box that contained the essence of the _Normandy's _AI system. He hadn't pulled disconnected the AI or anything... though admittedly had been _about to_ when he had discovered the timestamps that he and Maya had been pondering over.

"Let me talk to her, Lieutenant Commander." Maya ordered, prompting Lance to raise his omni-tool so that Liara could see the projection of the woman. "Good day, Doctor T'Soni. I am Captain Maya Toole of Nimea Research and Development, specifically the Artificial Intelligence Division."

The title dispelled Liara's rage, replacing it with a reluctant questioning. "AI Division, you say? Your country actually _studies _this as a matter of practice?"

"Nimea actually has seventeen active AI units that run with the country's blessing. Potentially eighteen, though Number 18 has yet to demonstrate the Descartes Principle that gives us confirmation of true sentience."

"I think, therefore I am." Lance added.

"Yes, I know that." Liara growled. "So what does the AI Division of a human colony want with a long dead AI from a hundred years ago?"

"We had very limited data pertaining to the discharge from the Crucible and how exactly is damaged the higher processes of synthetic life." Maya explained. "We learned that it theoretically attacked processes that were of Reaper origin, but were curious if the damage it did was different from purely software sentience like the Geth, and the common blue-box mounted AI that other species had developed."

"And EDI was your opportunity to study that." Liara concluded.

"The seventeen confirmed AIs in Nimea all were based on EDI's initial architecture, it's only the eighteenth that has a significant redesign. This autopsy, if you will, was a bit of self-exploration as well. There's much we still don't know about that 'spark of life'... rest assured, the experimentation would have been entirely respectful."

Liara caught the sentence tense, and pressed, "Would have?"

Maya's projection was replaced by a series of numbers, numbers that surprised Liara, a shift in expression that Maya observed. "I take it these timestamps _do _mean something to you?"

"Those... are... dates." Liara said, awestruck. "They're... the time of death for the members of the Normandy crew. Where did you find these?"

Lance jerked a thumb in the direction of the blue box. "From there."

Liara's jaw dropped and her eyes widened into saucers. "How..."

"It was kinda funny really, we stumbled upon it completely by accident. Captain Toole here," Lance pointed at the projection that had again reappeared over his omni-tool, "Had been copying data logs while I was preparing to extract the blue box for the physical examination. She found... mostly dormant processes still running."

"They would be analogous to the involuntary functions of an organic entity, runtimes that check for the time and date or redundancy errors, for example. But there was a single runtime that appeared to be tied to higher function. This runtime spiked at these exact times, and attempted to store something to memory. It is unlikely that anything was actually stored, but it was the _attempt _that I noted, and ordered the Lieutenant Commander to cease and desist his progress."

"Are you saying... that... EDI..."

"Tried to remember when the crew she had come to know passed away?" Maya finished. "Yes. That was _exactly _what I am saying, but that damage to the blue box, the degree of which is still unknown, likely prevented that level of consciousness to hold or be firmly recorded."

Liara gulped, trying to wrap her mind around the possibility that the pair seemed to be implying. "There's a chance that EDI is... still alive?"

Lance shrugged, "It depends on what you mean by 'alive', I suppose. This is analogous to an organic being hooked to life support with minimal brain function."

Maya quickly cut in, "Where the analogy fails is that function, in this case, could potentially be restored, though with difficulty and depending on the type and extent of the damage to the blue box. We know there _is _some; the entire core carries the residual electromagnetic field consistent with the Crucible's discharge, and as I'm sure you can attest, EDI is not functioning outside of that very minimal level."

Lance picked back up where Maya left off. "If the damage is just to the memory modules, then while she would no doubt have gaps due to the synthetic form of amnesia, she could theoretically be restored to at least most of her original functionality and sentience; as nothing within the blue box would have been shut down or reset."

With that said, he added the dire disclaimer, "However, if the damage is to her logical connections or core processors, then we would have to completely shut her down to repair or replace those components... as which point the 'spark' that Maya refers to would be inexorably changed. She would not be the EDI you know."

Maya spoke up again, "But I am willing to make the attempt, and the Lieutenant Commander is willing to be my hands. NMRD has never had the opportunity to restore functionality to an AI from such a low-functioning state, and is eager to see our results... with your permission of course, Doctor T'Soni. You would be the closest to next-of-kin EDI has."

Liara was surprised to discover how little she had to think about her response. "Even if the life that stems isn't the one I know... I think its important to pursue it. You have my blessing."

"Get whatever supplies you need to transport the blue box safely, LC." Marshall finally ordered. "Just be aware that you'll have to stay overnight if you can't make such arrangements by sundown."

"Yes... the temperatures get brutally cold at night." Liara confirmed. "And it is approaching evening as it is. Hopefully it doesn't take another day, as there is a vitally important mission that we have to complete."

Lance nodded and quickly made his leave. He was certainly not going to be responsible for such a delay. His professionalism wouldn't have been able to bear it.

Maya hadn't terminated the connection with those orders. "Thank you, love."

Lance smiled ruefully, "Hey. I know what EDI means to you. She'd be a... what... great-grandmother of yours, in a sense?"

"Great-great-grandmother, to be perfectly technical, considering the hardware 'generations' involved." Maya answered.

"You also probably didn't need to be so careful about said connection. It doesn't sound like Doctor T'Soni has anything against AIs, and I'm one hundred percent certain Captain Brasser read my dossier, and hasn't ever brought it up."

Maya made a noise that was her approximation of a sigh. "Force of habit, I suppose. Even some in NMRD get a little nervous when interacting with me. I didn't want to 'show my hand' so quickly."

Lance laughed. "I thought it was cute. You're so rarely self-conscious."

Maya's huff was her final retort before she cut the communication.

* * *

><p>It was fortunate that it was a "warm" night (at least by that planet's standards), otherwise Liara wouldn't have gotten this last opportunity to look back at the ship she called home for the last century.<p>

So many emotions, memories, and feelings flooded through her, promises she made to so many that at the time she had no intention of keeping. As much as she was glad to no longer be alone... it was still hard and painful to say goodbye to the now abandoned vessel.

"There are others coming behind us." Marshall's voice said, prompting Liara to turn and face the Spectre, surprised by how silently he approached. "The Anaheim is a lot bigger ship too. Don't worry... the Normandy will get the sending off it deserves. It won't be left here."

Liara shook her head, "That's not it. It's that... I know every hall, every service hatch and crawlspace... the smells and the sounds... even with just me in there. It was my singular comfort; one stable thing in my life no matter how crazy and bizarre circumstances got. This ship and I have come a long way... and now I go on without it. I'm 207 years old, and I've spent nearly as much time on this ship than every other place in my life combined."

"Even after a decade in isolation, I suppose it's hard to leave home, huh?"

Perhaps it was the sheer emotion of leaving... maybe it just elation at actually seeing other living things that didn't throw spears at her if she got too close... but she spun around and threw her arms around the Spectre's waist, ignoring his attempt to shy away and warning of, "Liara... don't..."

If he finished that sentence, she never heard it. She was so shocked that an empathic connection formed without her focus... beyond her control, and an asari wasn't exactly used to losing control...

* * *

><p>The first sensation was searing agonizing pain, like her entire body was on fire. The agony was so intense that she didn't even realize her vision was completely black until she opened her eyes.<p>

No... this wasn't her. That much became clear when she found herself looking down at a distinctly human chest, a teenage male she guessed judging from muscle tone and build. This was one of the Spectre's memories... something that must have been on the surface of his thoughts... but why?

He had been restrained, and for so long that he no longer fought his bondage, even if he had the energy to do so. The pain had been from an excruciating electrical discharge.

"175,000 volts, my eminence." A voice, shrouded by a 2-way mirror on the other side of the white, poorly lit chamber declared. "Minor bruising, but no significant changes to vital signs."

"Excellent." A second voice said, this one entering the room. Through hazy vision, the only thing that Liara could discern was that he had silvery hair and had the movements of someone who would be significantly gray.

The man poked and prodded Marshall, apparently examining to look for injury. "Very good indeed. The skin is remarkably resilient to electrical flow. It's probably not even pervading more than the upper layers of the dermis." He then turned his head to the window and said, "Prep the next charge. 250,000 volts. Increase duration to fifteen seconds."

"Your eminence... that sort of charge exceeds the safety parameters of the equipment we have."

"I don't care!" The gray haired man snarled. "I need to know the parameters of the subject's regeneration from multiple sources of damage. I need to know if he can surpass Shepard, and that means we must test _by any means necessary_!"

Marshall didn't even have the energy to cry. Clearly this _abuse_ (Liara refused to call it anything else) had been going on for a very long time, and in many different ways. All for a person who could barely be considered out of childhood.

But the connection to Shepard was the most chilling. Someone to "surpass" him? Why? For what reason would such a thing be necessary?

"Very well, your eminence; but I must insist you leave the room for the next charge. I cannot guarantee your safety if you remain inside."

* * *

><p>The memory shifted abruptly, supporting the idea that Marshall's memories were a tumultuous mess, and this one explained further why.<p>

Marshall had dropped down on his knees, panting heavily. While he wasn't in pain, he was definitely exhausted. Every muscle felt like lead... and all he wanted was just five minutes to rest.

Rest that was denied him by a thick Oriental voice in his ear. "Shepard fought twelve Phantoms including myself, at once, to save the MEMO from being destroyed by Cerberus forces. Do you think we gave him rest? Do we think we let him take a drink of water to rehydrate? If you cannot best thirty of your peers, one at a time, why should I continue to teach you?"

Liara wanted to scream at the source of the voice. That was nothing short of an outright _lie_. She remembered that mission. She didn't even think they ran into twelve Phantoms during that securing run _total_, much less _at once_. Even then, Shepard hardly fought all of them. Garrus dropped two from sniper range by himself. Liara had dispatched one... and Tali (who had been the third member of the team during the first part of the mission) had dealt with two as well. The other Phantoms had been dealt with as a _team_. Who the hell did this fossil think he was?

The words nonetheless had the effect the Oriental man desired. With a heavy growl and exhale of frustration, Marshall forced himself to his feet, fighting back the strain of his protesting muscles. She could feel him drop into a fighting stance as with a finger-snapping sound, the tormentor declared, "Next opponent!"

* * *

><p><em>"Oh my God, it's him, Becky. At the table next to us!"<em>

Marshall tried to ignore the whispers from the origin, keeping his eyes focused on the young girl seated across from him, gleefully eating shrimp in an orange sauce. A small dribble down her chin was followed by, "And then Davey tried to crack a turtle's shell with a rock. But I stopped him. The meanie."

_"Who?"_

_ "Marshall Brasser. Ya know, the guy in the movie!"_

Marshall instead smiled and said, "That's great, kiddo. You should treat people, and animals right."

"I know, daddy!"

So that was his daughter. Liara found herself a little depressed by that revelation, and immediately reprimanded herself for such a terrible thought.

_Him? Ya sure?_

_ Yeah! The Reticulan Shepard! I wanna see if he'll sign my purse!_

The girl looked down at the plate in front on him, "Are you not hungry, daddy? It's good!"

Marshall didn't have the heart to tell his daughter that the gossip had made him lose his appetite. The hatred for Shepard had sunk in so deep that just the name could ruin his day.

_The Reticulan Shepard? Oh please. Melanie says that he's lost __**tons **__of people in his command. Even his wife got killed. Shepard never lost a soul. He's no Shepard, just some tool the government wants to hype up to justify their stupid wars._

* * *

><p>Liara's mind reeled, spinning so hard she didn't even realize the memories had finally faded. Never lost a man under his command? Hell, there was a faded board right on the crew deck with a long <em>list <em>of names that disproved _that _load of balderdash.

She noticed that she was seeing the Spectre in question face to face rather than through his eyes. For what it was worth, he looked about as out of sorts as she was... probably due to the fact that he had no doubt been exposed to Goddess-knew-what from _her _past. It could have been anything... she had no idea what he had seen... such connections as far as she knew were carefully controlled by the asari performing the connection.

Liara jumped away awkwardly, unable to form words to apologize or explain. What _could _she say?

Marshall instead spun about, so embarrassed she could sense it in his body language and tone of voice. "Uhhh... we should... get going. The... shuttle's waiting."

"R... right..." She stammered. "I'll be... right behind you..."

Liara didn't immediately follow, turning about once more to see the Normandy, remembering the people lost, especially her beloved commander. Then again towards the retreating Spectre, and now getting a better understanding of the coldness said Spectre displayed when Shepard's name had been raised.

She found that one question stomped through her mind as she fell in step following Marshall towards their destination...

What the hell had happened in the last hundred years?

_Author's Note #3: Yep. There ya have it. Marshall's a mixed race guy (black father, white mother for the sake of "lore")._

_So... why? Well, because honestly, one thing I really felt the Mass Effect series handled poorly was minority characters. They tended to be more thinly veiled stereotypes than actual people with their own merits. I wanted people to attach to Marshall's character WITHOUT the physical characteristics coming to play at first... though this wasn't when I had initially planned for that reveal (I initially planned on a sort of Metroid reveal right at the very end)._

_Video games as a whole are really bad at writing minorities, and you can tell in most cases they don't even **try**. So, Marshall as someone "not-white" was an idea I really wanted right from the beginning, even though the reason I withheld that information as a thought experiment for the reader, and decided to scrap as the story went on. It's silly, and at this point, I don't want to continue with it._


	63. Chapter 63

**Chapter 63**

Jonas Moss paled considerably, so much so thay the other Council members noticed.

"You... want _what _now?" He asked Marshall after the captain had finished his report.

Marshall rubbed the back of his head, knowing full well the enormity of what he was requesting. "Yeah, I know. But I need the Reticulan Chronicle _and _the Pinot Stones, at least a copy of the latter. The sooner the better."

Jonas wasn't even sure how to formulate his reply, and the rest of the Council seemed more than willing to let him do the talking, as he had the most knowledge on this score. "Of the two things you could have possibly asked for from Reticuli Prime... you had to need the two things that will take an act of God to pry out of their hands."

Sha'ira finally stepped in at this point, "If those artifacts are truly important to the growing Reaper threat..."

"I didn't say I couldn't arrange it." Jonas retorted, perhaps a bit too testily. He blamed it on the coffee here on Earth. Bitter, bland crap that he couldn't even choke down half of. The adjustment from Reticuli's Seattle to London was like settling down in a third world country at times. "But it's going to take time and a lot of coaxing. The Chronicle would be easy enough. NMRD will pitch a fit, to be sure, but I can get the Parlimentary support to make their complaints irrelevant."

Then Jonas sighed with a reluctant hiss. "The Pinot Stones, on the other hand... are going to be a _lot _trickier. Sedin has been a more friendly and open since you left, Captain, but it's still a very delicate truce. I'll need to work on a _lot _of people _very _carefully to get them to release that to a Nimean; much less one of your... reputation."

"Understood." Marshall answered.

"In the meantime, I would suggest you pursue the other remaining artifacts." Councilor Hackett offered. "With any luck, you'll have gathered those together by the time Couniclor Moss has finished his political wrangling."

Sha'iri again spoke before Marshall could make his partings. "One final thing. Is Doctor T'Soni available?"

Marshall nodded, "Of course." He then stepped aside, and let Liara take in place in front of the projection.

"Councilor." Liara said. "I'd say it feels like yesterday that you were running something barely above a brothel, but I'd be lying."

There was a definite tension between the two Asari, not animosity, but not exactly friendly either. The Councilor's reaction, though measured, reflected such. "Normally, I'd request that someone marooned for a decade undergo psychiatric evaluation before signing her off on starship duties."

"There's not really time for that." Liara retorted.

Sha'ira agreed. "No, I suppose there isn't. If Spectre Brasser does not have an objection, I will... trust that you are of sound mind to continue the mission Commander Shepard started."

"Doctor T'Soni is as mentally stable as anyone could expect." Marshall interjected, even though he knew he wasn't being entirely truthful. "Her insight could be valuable."

"Then our course of action is set. Good luck, Spectre. Council out."

The projection died, leaving Marshall and Liara alone in the conference room, something that neither of them really found they wanted to deal with right at that moment.

Liara _tried_, but it came out, "Captain... I... nevermind. I'm still getting my bearings. I just hope that I'll be of the use you told the Council would be."

Marshall really wished he could be anywhere else. "I'm sure you will. You probably know more about what's at stake than anyone." He moved to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, then stopped abruptly. "I'll... call you into conference once I've sorted out the locations that Chronicle on the surface... put in my head."

"Right." Liara replied. "Right. Of course. Right. Uh... by your leave, Captain?"

Marshall nodded, stepping forward, almost to run headlong into Liara who had moved at the same time. They nervously exchanged glances and hesitant steps before Liara took one large stride backward and said, "You... have a ship to command. You should... go... first. Now...ish... ly?"

"Yeah. Okay." Marshall hastily agreed, making his departure with as brisk of a walk as possible out of the conference room, not looking back as Liara gingerly made her own leave, specifically taking the exact opposite turn in the hall.

* * *

><p>Marshall stepped into what had been intended as the <em>Iwo Jima's <em>AI core, and where Lance and Maya had decided would serve for their work on the currently defunct EDI. He figured it would be a quick stop where he could regain his bearings before going to the CIC to map out coordinates.

On the starboard side workstation, a power supply cord connected from the wall to EDI's blue box, and in front of that, the lieutenant commander stood looking down at the now exposed top of the AI's "brain", his brows furrowed in concentration, while Maya's holographic projection hovered over the table itself, also looking down with concern.

Smoke popped his head around the doorway a second later, and asked, "What's going on in here?"

Marshall held a finger to his lips to tell the commander to quiet down, before asking himself, "So, do we got good or bad news, LC?"

Lance's answer was a perfectly non-committal, "Yes."

Maya offered clarification. "Greetings, Captain. As the Lieutenant Commander so bluntly put it, the analysis could have been better, but it could have also been a lot worse. The processor and connections weren't damaged, the atomic read access drive is also largely intact, though the connecting stream channels suffered total burnout. It was no doubt the reason why nothing but the barest minimal function was possible within her core processes, and can be replaced without harm to EDI."

Marshall could feel the, "But...?"

"The damage to the memory cores is borderline catastrophic." Lance said. "EDI has twelve memory modules, and six of them are completely fried beyond any hope of recovery. The physical modules themselves can, and should, be replaced... but any data that would have been stored on them is gone for good."

Maya continued, "In addition, of the remaining six, three have minimal, non-critical faults, and the entire memory channel matrix will need to be replaced. Depending on information redundancy, if any, EDI could feasibly have lost up to 70% of her memories."

"Considering that EDI was designed as a combat-oriented AI, redundancy likely was very low priority; as having overly redundant data can slow processing speed. It is very likely EDI's memory loss will be closer to that 70% than not." Lance finished.

"That'll be wonderful news to break to Doctor T'Soni." Marshall said sarcastically. "Yeah, Liara, EDI most likely won't remember you or anything you did. Have fun trying to rebuild that friendship."

Lance and Smoke caught each others eyes knowingly. The captain was definitely finely tuned to the emotional states of others, and prone to emotional fugues himself – a consequence of his empathic talents, no doubt – but to see him so bothered pertaining to someone he had known for the grand total of half a day at most couldn't be normal.

Smoke heaved a deep breath, and reluctantly asked, "All right. What happened?"

Marshall knew better than to play coy. "Doctor T'Soni and I had an unexpected sharing of contact memory. While I don't know what she saw of my memories, any number of them would have been troubling, I'm sure."

"And what did you see?" Smoke asked.

"Could you _imagine _watching _every _one of your friends _die_ in front of you? Then for ten years... alone...having to talk to yourself just so that you could remember _how_? Hallucinating on a weekly basis; of rescue, of friends, like EDI, talking to you like they were still alive."

Marshall then cut to the heart of the issue pestering at him, "And now, picture yourself wondering if your homeworld hadn't spent the last one hundred years trying to kill each other, that maybe we could gotten our act together quicker and prevented that nightmare. I almost... feel responsible for it, considering how much hell I help raise in the Oceanic War."

There was a long pregnant silence following that speech. Lance blinked, and went cross-eyed as he tried to put his thoughts to words. "Ya know, as odd as this may sound, I would honestly argue the _opposite_. Our conflicts actually got us to this point _faster _than we probably would have."

"Think about it this way." Lance offered, "Nimea _really _started serious work figuring out what was in the Chronicle _because _of the fallout of the First Civil War. The orbital infrastructure that made the Iwo Jima's departure feasible were indirectly borne of a desire to not be caught off-guard by Sedin movements after the Second. NMRD pursued the Mobius Core technology not for deep space exploration, but in an attempt to develop a better drive generator that would allow our orbital fleet to engage in longer bombardments. Who knows when we would have deemed those technologies worth the investment without those conflicts?"

"As for you... hell, I'd dare say you're here _because _of the hell you raised in the Oceanic War. Let's be honest, most of us aren't here because Nimea thought we'd be the best face to enter the galaxy at large. Remember they figured this ship wasn't going to find much more than a lifeless, bombed out galaxy. I was a warhawk in an organization that wanted to turn to peaceful technological developments. Forget the 'anonymous open audition' and realize Lieutenant Dean is here because the Fleet figured it'd be the best way to get 'that woman' out of sight and mind. You and Commander Takei are here because you became the flash point that kept Sedin from even _considering _stepping up to the table unless you were both subject to a war crimes trial."

"Ain't just us, either." Smoke added. "Dani was a disgrace to the Flotilla, remember? Thessia just wanted to get Aria anywhere but there."

Lance said, "Had it been _anyone_ else that could have been put in command of this ship and this crew, I honestly don't think the Iwo Jima makes it past Eden Prime. I can honestly say you're the only Captain in the whole damn NMS that had the talents, skills, and combat experience to get us out of that mess. It is _because _of our battles amongst ourselves that put the right man on the right track, as fast as we did. Anything else, and Doctor T'Soni is still on that planet while a revived Reaper Force exterminates what little is left of this developed galaxy."

Marshall gave a reluctant smile, "I'm only going to believe you because of how rarely you offer praise. Do what you can for EDI. At the very least, if we can restore her life, we'll let the memories fall where they may... provided it doesn't impede your proper duties."

"Which he should get some rest for if he wants to be alert for them in seven hours." Maya added with a gentle chide.

"You too, Smoke. Get some shut-eye, and make sure Dani does too. Tomorrow at 0700 I'm going to brief the entire command personnel on what's in my head, and plan where we go."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Liara had dropped down into the armory, looking for a friendly face that wasn't her father's; and she knew from experience that despite his curmudgeonly exterior, that Wrex was an excellent listener, and when he <em>did <em>speak, he did so with wisdom that the galaxy would not have thought possible from a krogan.

"So... lemme get this straight." Wrex said. "You kinda hugged the Spectre, and saw a whole bunch of memories of his. Memories that dealt with Shepard in some fashion."

"Yes." Liara said. "Did you know that Captain Brasser _hates _Commander Shepard?"

Wrex exhaled slowly, "Kinda hard _not _to notice that animosity, really. I think Brasser hates what happened to him, and that Shepard was the focal point for a lot of that. Kinda hard to actually hate a person who died before you were even born. I'm not gonna ask what you saw, because if Brasser was willing to talk about those specifics, he would have done so by now. Ain't my place to butt in where I'm not wanted."

Liara threw out her hands, "The man that Captain Brasser has been measured against never existed. I just... I don't _understand _where the Shepard in Brasser's memories came from!"

Wrex hummed thoughtfully, then turned full about. "Lieutenant!" He bellowed out to Larisa, who had been quite dutifully ignoring the conversation about a Captain she had come to respect and damn near revere.

"Lieutenant Grimes!" Wrex shouted again.

"_What?_" Larisa bellowed back grumpily.

"You still got that 'History of the Galaxy' datapad module somewhere?"

The armory officer gestured behind her while continuing to analyze the tests on the Yukon's propulsion systems. "On my workstation, I'm sure."

"Mind if the good doctor here borrows it?"

"Will that get you to leave me alone so I can work?"

Wrex guffawed, and damn near _chirped _(which is every bit of a perplexing sound as one could expect to come from a krogan), "Yep!"

"Then she can have the damn thing _forever._"

Wrex motioned for Liara to follow as he moved to the Lieutenant's workstation, which was distinct only in that is had a second surface that cornered off the first, unlike the single panel workstations for the other members of the crew.

The krogan's hand accidentally slapped a silvery wrench shaped object off to the side as his hands sifted through the papers and tools on the primary surface, the article's trajectory causing Seven to momentarily abandon his work on Smoke's assault rifle in order to catch it, preventing the object from striking him square in his aperature. "Urdnot Wrex, airborne spanners and other tools contribute to a hazardous working environment. I would recommend showing greater restraint in this matter, as neither O'Carter-Ensign nor Grimes-Lieutenant have my reaction time, and severe injury could be of consequence."

"_Damn it, Wrex!_" Larisa bellowed. "If that was my father's keepsake titanium spanner, we're going to find out just how resilient the krogan anus is when introduced to a soldering rod!"

Wrex grimaced, then nervously jerked a thumb back towards Larisa. "She can get mean. You get used to it." At that point, he found the datapad that had the module in question installed. "Ah! There we go!" The krogan handed said pad to Liara, and the humor disappeared from his voice, replaced with a grim warning. "I think you need to learn just what the galaxy's been saying about Shepard since you flew off with him."

* * *

><p>By the time Marshall had prepped his materials for the briefing, it was already 0130 by the ship's reckoning. All he wanted to do was catch a few hours sleep and try and recharge for the next day.<p>

That desire would have to wait. A signal outside his door prompted a heavy sigh, then a remote command unlocked it. "Enter."

He fought back a tired sigh when he saw Liara step across the threshold. He wasn't being fair to her; he could tell that she was just as uncomfortable around him as he was around her. And it _was _something they were going to have to address, preferably sooner than later. Might was well be now.

"Doctor T'Soni. What can I do for you?" Marshall felt rather proud at how evenly he said that. Not even a hint of trepidation. Good to know he could still fake it if he had to.

Liara immediately was apologetic. "I wanted to apologize for the... unfortunate... sharing of memories." Liara said, "I was exceptionally emotional, and... it can cause unintentional empathic connections if someone else is equally... emotional. Asari aren't... used to humans having that level of latent talent. I will be more careful with... that... in the future."

"Well, it takes two to tango." Marshall replied. "I was rather wound up myself. And none of it was your fault."

Liara took a deep breath before getting to the really uncomfortable part she knew she had to broach. "No. But the legacy Commander Shepard left behind was, and I was a part of that." She gestured to the corner of his bed, and said, "May I... sit down?"

Marshall wanted to refuse; wanted to stop this discussion before it started. But instead, he nodded silently as the asari perched herself as close to the corner as she could without falling off entirely.

"I should tell you what I saw. It disturbed me greatly, to see how you were tortured in Shepard's name, I... I couldn't conceive how someone who did so much good could inspire such depravity, lies, and mistreatment. Then Wrex had me read this..."

The asari brandished the datapad that was running Larisa's copy of _The History of the Galaxy_. Marshall noticed the heading on the display, and said with a hint of disgust, "I'm sure that was enlightening."

Liara nodded, "It was, but not in the way I would have hoped." She coughed quietly to gather her voice, then moved the datapad to where she could recite, "Shepard fought a nearly insurmountable battle just to mobilize the galaxy against the growing Reaper threat. With no political allies, distrust at every turn, and several attempts to sabotage his efforts from politic machines within the Council and planetary leaders; his determination alone was the turning point that allowed the galaxy to come together under one banner and push back against the Reapers at the Second Battle of Earth, preserving what remained of galactic civilization."

She frowned, and noted, "This is a text from Reticuli Prime, as I'm sure you are aware; which had been cut off from the rest of the galaxy before such battle took place. How your historians would have known the results of that battle is quite remarkable." The sarcasm was replaced with a forlorn sigh, "Not that the texts I perused from Earth are much better, and in some ways _worse _considering there would have been more than a few people with first hand accounts of who Shepard really was and what he really did that Earth historians should _know better_."

Wrex had commented that the Shepard history spoke of wasn't exactly the Shepard that actually made history, but hadn't really been willing to get too into detail, claiming that he hadn't been right there at every step of the journey. Liara, on the other hand, would have been.

Marshall moved from his chair, dropping down next to Liara in an attempt to not look afraid of conversing. "Is it really _that _inaccurate?"

"Grossly glorified, would be the best description I could use." Liara replied. "Shepard had _several _allies, both in the field and in the political arena. There was definitely resistance from _some _leaders, but many who were as wholly in his corner as he could have hoped. Admiral Hackett alone held off a small legion of wolves that would have _loved _to use Shepard as a scapegoat for any number of political inconveniences. The council might have been incompetent... well, okay, no _might _about it... but the skepticism and dismissal was for show, to prevent a panic. A flimsy excuse, but certainly _not _how history portrays them."

Liara inhaled sharply when she became acutely aware of Marshall's new position. She blamed it on the lack of contact with other civilized beings. Her concept of personal space had expanded as a result. "As for Shepard himself; he was a great man. Put in an incredibly difficult place where even the smallest failure meant people died. That _anything _was salvaged after a war with a genocidal fleet that had nothing but total success for over a billion years is testament to that."

She nervously patted Marshall on the hand, immensely relieved that the contact didn't trigger another empathic connection. Now that she knew it was possible, she could control it like with any other Asari. "But he wasn't invincible. He wasn't indefatigable. For every story of his tireless efforts on the battle field, they leave out the following night where Garrus and I had to, forcibly at times, drag him up to his cabin while Tali hacked the lock so that he couldn't leave until he got four hours of sleep."

"How would that have worked?" Marshall asked, "Did he have someone _in _the cabin with him to..." He then noticed Liara's patronizing glare, and put together the rest quickly. "Oh. Right. Sore spot for you?"

Liara ignored the added quip, getting back to the point. "It leaves out the number of scars, both physical and mental, he suffered over the campaigns he fought in. Shepard was a fragile shell of himself by the end... burnt to nothing from both ends. His... his death was more a mercy than a tragedy."

Marshall said, "You... cared about him, didn't you?"

Liara knew better than to try and deny it. "Very much. Even now, after three decades, I miss him. We had been close... even intimate. But... he, Cerberus, the Lazarus Project... then Tali. I... I didn't hold it against either of them. Tali was the most adorable, most wonderful friend. She was _so _worried that she had done something wrong and terrible by making her own advances. I miss her too."

She frowned, and glumly added, "I miss _all _of them. So very much."

Marshall didn't say anything, mostly because it didn't feel like he should.

"Which is why... I need to finish what they started. Or at least help to do so."

This time Marshall offered the comforting hand. "You will. Just let us do the heavy lifting. You've done your time. In spades."

The conversation was interrupted by Kelsey VI appearing over Marshall's desk. "Captain, you have an incoming communication request from..." The VI momentarily paused before playing the prerecorded name, which amusingly didn't change the VI's voice save for it's enthusiasm, "Me!"

"Damn it..." Marshall grumbled. "I need to take this. My apologies, doctor."

Liara actually identified the voice from the one in Marshall's memories, but said nothing out of worry that it would be a little too personal to admit. "I assume it's your daughter?"

"Yes." Marshall answered simply.

"Then I will show myself out." Liara said with a short nod. "Thank you, Captain."

Marshall hesitated to answer his daughter's beckons long enough to ask her retreating form, "Would you be willing to attend a briefing in the main conference room at 0700? I'd like whatever input you could provide."

* * *

><p>Smoke was not first one into the conference room for the appointed briefing. This was not a surprise. Ghost was nearly always ten minutes early for anything, and Dani followed Ghost like a lovesick puppy. What <em>was <em>a surprise was that neither of them were the ones that beat him there.

"Hi." Smoke said to the asari reclining comfortably in the chair at the head of the table; her eyes closed and breathing slow; as if she was in the most mellow meditation _ever_.

One eye opened and regarded Smoke indifferently before it closed again. "Good morning, Commander Takei." Liara said amiably.

"So... whatcha doin' here?"

"Waiting for the briefing." Liara answered simply. "I believe the Captain scheduled it for about ten minutes from now."

"Ten?" Smoke repeated in confusion. "He said it was at 0700, right?" The commander consulted the time on his omni-tool, and saw 0649. "How in the... in my cabin it said..."

"I overheard Lieutenant Michal chatting about temporarily altering the time display in your cabin on the Captain's orders." Liara said. "I'm assuming you have a tendency for tardiness?"

"Hey. I am always prompt and on time!"

"Which means in fleet reckoning, you're always late." Liara chided, unrepentant. "I know navy life, Commander."

"Doctor, I think you are going to fit in just fine." Marshall quipped, entering the conference room, Dani predictably one stride behind him. "I'll make this quick, because the LC wants to get back down to Engineering ASAP."

Liara attempted to relinquish her position at the head of the table, but Marshall motioned for her to sit back down. He instead remained standing, leaning over the broad side of the table, calling up a galaxy map projection. "With the help of Doctor Coyle and some memory mapping, we were able to place exactly what the Reticulan artifact gave me in regards to locations of other artifacts... and we were a bit surprised by the results."

The galaxy map was then littered by white dots, which Liara assumed corresponded to various artifact locations. She lost count at about thirty, then said, "It would make sense. The Reticulans wouldn't have just made seven... the odds that they'd be lost over time would be _far _too high, even if they were hidden away well off the relay network."

"The two that I identified were indeed the closest to our location." Marshall said further, a gesture zooming the map to highlight the pair in question. "Long range scans and old survey data from the Citadel tells us some details about the two locations."

"The first is what amounts to an iceball moon revolving a brown dwarf." He pointed to the first of the two locations. "However, underneath the ice shelf is what would appear to be a global saline ocean, kept warm from geothermic activity. I suspect it would have been a hiding place for the Leviathans and Reticulans."

"Wouldn't be the first time the Reticulans hid an artifact right under the Leviathan's noses, so to speak." Liara noted, "And if that _was _the case, it would have access for their Reticulan thralls. It could also give us more insight on the Leviathans. There really isn't much we know about them."

"The second... is a planet called Turvess." Marshall said. "Yeah, I was a bit shocked to hear that the Citadel had a name for this world. Though a bit off the beaten path, the asari had made first contact with the native species of that world, the raloi, shortly before the Reaper War ripped the galaxy a new asshole."

Marshall smirked ruefully. "The Council said it was _my _choice, but I felt some really heavy leaning to try and confirm the state of that species and try and re-establish diplomatic ties if anything had survived."

He then straightened, and said to the assembled group, "So that's why we're here; to figure out where we're going next. Who wants to state their case?"

_Author's Note: There ya have it folks. State your case! Where do you want to see the Iwo Jima head next?_


	64. Chapter 64

**Chapter 64**

"We need to learn more about the Leviathans." Liara insisted. "Why they feel the Reapers are so important could be vital to learning how to stop them. If we're only curing the symptom and not the disease, we'd could simply be repeating this dance in _another_ hundred years."

"If that _potential_ Leviathan hideaway has survived millions of years, it can survive for a little bit longer." Smoke countered. "Restoring ties with other civilizations can, and should, take priority. We already know that Reapers are being rebuilt. Knowing why the Leviathans did it isn't going to make them any less rebuilt."

Marshall nodded. "Sorry, Doctor T'Soni, but I agree with the Commander. Dani, get back to the bridge and plot out our path to Turvess. Smoke, you have the bridge while I update the council on our decision."

Surprisingly, Liara took Marshall's decision better than he would have expected. Noticing the guilty expression, she said comfortingly, "You would _hardly _be the first person to not see things my way, Captain. Besides, Commander Takei isn't wrong. If you need anything else; I'll return to my bunk and begin some very considerable revisions of revised history."

With that eased tension, Marshall dismissed the group to their assigned tasks.

* * *

><p>Liara was hardly a greenhorn when it came to space life, but the changes that Reticuli Prime had managed over the last century had made her grossly unqualified to man <em>any <em>station in _any _capacity for the time being.

So she spent the next day and a half taking a carving knife to the work of fiction they called history. Liara wasn't a historian by trade, but making corrections to the horrific mangling of Shepard's life and legacy was something she could offer while the rest of the _Iwo Jima's _crew actually did the important things.

Her stomach growled with hunger, and with a sigh of disdain noted that Commander Dani'Arah had left to get food herself. The quarian commander had graciously offered Liara a crash space in her cabin, and had also taken meals to the asari so that Liara didn't have to brave the galley.

There was little avoiding it now, however... and it really _was _something that Liara was going to have to manage at some point anyway. She could only avoid her father for so long, especially on a damned frigate.

Truth being, outside of a momentary moment of relief when Liara had seen Aethyta upon the former's rescue from her decade of isolation, Liara had remembered quite quickly exactly _why _they weren't particularly on speaking terms. It had been a particularly angry exchange that ended with, "I forbid you to go" and "oh, _now _you're going to try and be a father after 110 years."

It hadn't been pleasant.

Liara paused at the galley entrance, took a deep breath, and then forced her feet forward to where her body would trip the sensor and slide the doors open.

The galley was largely empty, which made it even more uncomfortable. If her father was busy, she would have been able to slip in, get some food, and get out without having to make to much conversation. As it was, the only two occupants outside of the galley crew was Lieutenant Michal and Commander Dani'Arah, who were amiably eating and chatting.

Aethyta was leaning over the front counter, watching something intently on her omni-tool. For a moment, Liara considered just not eating when Lieutenant Michal detected her presence.

"Doctor T'Soni! Greetings!"

Damn it.

Aethyta tilted her head up, and the two locked eyes. Her father was plainly hurt, her lips turned downward, and her eyes apprehensive.

Dani noticed the exchange, and mumbled, "Awkward..."

"Shut your fanged yap, glow eyes." Aethyta growled, not taking her eyes off Liara.

"I have to keep my mouth open." Dani retorted, "Otherwise I'd taste this sin against nature you slapped on my plate."

"One more word, dog legs... just one more word, and I'm closing your mouth with a stapler."

"You really want to lose your hands _that _badly, do you?"

"_Enough_!" Aethyta snapped, then flipped a hand towards Liara and turned her attention back to her omni-tool. "Get over here. No doubt you're hungry. The commander here hasn't taken your order since 1200."

Liara gingerly stepped over to the counter, and Aethyta didn't look up from her video. "What can I get ya, kid?"

"Surprise me."

Dani shook her head. "Oh, _that _much is a given. No matter what you order, you will _definitely _be surprised."

Jessie had to duck the serving spoon that Aethyta grabbed and whipped in Dani's direction, the quarian smirking as she nimbly caught the implement and set it down on the table next to her. The matriarch turned back towards the rear of the galley and shouted, "Get me one round steak, medium cook and some leafy greens with light oil dressing. Surely you folks can manage that."

Aethyta then said to Liara, "Good kids... when it comes to human food. Anything else? Not so much. I'm trying to learn them."

Jessie coughed twice, drawing Aethyta's ire. "No comments from you, carrot top. It's bad enough I have to deal with the living flashlight next to you." The matriarch then finally forced herself to look at her daughter. "It's... bad when my daughter will only come see me as starvation sits in."

Liara felt her fringe tingle with anger, and began to retort, "Well... you know who's..."

Aethyta held up a hand. "Yeah, I do. I was stupid, and I know it. You're a grown woman, and have been for over a century, no thanks to me. I was wrong to try and be an overprotective father long after it was too late to be one."

The matriarch looked very upset, forcing herself not to cry. "Benny, your mother, had kept me at arms length during the entire pregnancy. I could see the writing on the wall, really. And I knew it wasn't a fight I was going to win. After Benezia died... I didn't know what to do. You didn't know shit about me. When you finally confronted me, it was the middle of a damn war of extinction. All... all I wanted was to finally be part of my daughter's life."

"And Shepard then went off on this crazy scheme." Liara said.

"Spent the last century doing nothing but feeling miserable. When we lost contact with the Normandy, I thought that was it."

"But it's not." Liara said, the rage dispelling. "I'm still alive."

"Something that makes me eternally grateful, kid. I... what is _that_?"

Aethyta pointed at an object that had started to poke out of Liara's breast pocket. Liara followed the line, and yelped in surprise. Shepard had given it to her just before he died, and she had kept it close to her heart for safekeeping, so much so that she often forgot it was there.

"It's a prothean echo shard. Javik gave this to Shepard, and he gave it to me." Liara said, pulling the shimmering object from the pocket, still awestruck by the holographic green to purple foil look it had depending on the light. Like most prothean technology, Liara found that she could somewhat make out something that was supposed to be something... but little else. Shepard had been the only non-prothean to make heads or tails of it...

Liara groaned reluctantly. "I will need to show this to Captain Brasser, sooner rather than later. It might have useful information."

Jessie spoke up. "He'll be off duty in an hour. I'd recommend catching him then rather than interrupt him on the bridge."

Liara nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I will do so."

At that point, a blood curdling noise erupted from Aethyta's omni-tool, like a girl's scream. Aethyta looked at the video playing, scoffed and said, "Oh, come _on_..."

Liara noted her father's lack of concern, and said, "What in the goddess's name are you watching?"

"A video that I had picked up on Earth. Kinda strange, really. There's a whole genre of this stuff." The matriarch turned her forearm in Liara's direction, and the younger asari's brow just about jumped to her fringe. "Not too bad if you ignore the screaming."

The video featured an overly well-endowed animated human female in a formal uniform being ravished by something resembling a green, bulbous squid. Liara sputtered in disgust, and said, "How can you _watch _that? It's _so_...wrong."

Aethyta nodded in agreement, turning her arm back to a more comfortable position. "No shit. That girl shouldn't be screaming like that. Maybe in orgasm, but certainly not in pain."

Liara blinked twice as the breaks of her brain slammed down and froze her thoughts for several seconds. At the end of the long, pregnant pause, the only word that Liara could offer was a flat, deadpanned, "What?"

Aethyta grinned deviously, and replied, "Oh honey, you don't _know _pleasure until you've been with a hanar that knows _exactly _what to do with its tentacles."

Jessie stood up, pushed her tray forward, and said nervously, "And I'm done. Good night."

The lieutenant retreated from the galley swiftly to Aethyta's disparaging shake of her head. "No imagination in some of these human girls, I tell ya."

Liara had finally gathered enough resembling higher brain function to boggle, "That's not imagination... that's depravity."

Aethyta's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Don't you _dare _judge me, young lady. I don't judge your little fetishes."

Dani leaned back in her chair and muttered something about things starting to get good while Liara's jaw dropped in indignation. "I... I do _not _have any fetishes!"

"Oh yes, you do." Aethyta teased. "I realize it now. You've got a thing for humans in command."

"I most certainly do _not_!"

"Oh? So... what... are you expecting a delivery from Captain Brasser then?"

Indignation turned to confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, with the way you were checking out his package..."

Liara flushed bright violet from chin to forehead. "I was _not_! That's... that's... _no_! Just... just... _no_! I _never _ogled his... him... there."

"So you've ogled other places then? Can't really blame ya. You should see him change when he's gearing up. Mmm... not an inch of paunch _anywhere_. I think Lieutenant Michal could get you a video."

Dani snarked, "Oh... _could _she. Little voyeur, that one."

Liara closed her eyes, still furiously blushing. "I am _not _listening to this."

Aethyta grinned. "Relax, darling. He's completely unattached. Just be careful no cute quarians swoop in and steal this one out from under you too." The matriarch knowingly glanced in Dani's direction, and Liara's treasonous eyes followed before the younger asari could squash such silly thoughts. If Captain Brasser and Commander Dani'Arah had _anything _going on, it was _none _of her business or concern.

Dani shrugged at the implication. Captain Brasser really did not interest her in the slightest in that way, but Liara didn't need to know that yet. "I can't say I considered it... but... I wouldn't be the first quarian who dipped her toe in the human pool, if you know what I mean. Could be fun."

Liara was mercifully saved from future embarrassment with a little white plastic plate dropping onto the counter, with one of the petty officers in the galley repeating the order back. Liara hastily grabbed said plate, and said, "I... I have work to do... back in my cabin. I'll... talk to you later, father, Commander."

Liara left the galley as quickly as proper decorum could allow, leaving a laughing asari and quarian in her wake. Aethyta gathered her composure long enough to say through chuckled breaths, "I guess you're alright, glow eyes."

"I wish I could say the same about your food."

Any biting comeback was interrupted by another anguished scream from her omni-tool. Appraising the action displayed, Aethyta scoffed in annoyance, "Oh shut up. That feels _incredible_."

* * *

><p>Marshall eyed Liara warily after he bid her entry into his cabin. He was again at his desk, the holographic projection still dimly glowing from what had been a recently terminated communication. "If you keep dropping by every night, people are going to start getting ideas."<p>

Liara gave him a warning glare. "You have _no _idea. Don't start."

That earned a chuckle, and the captain asking, "So, what brings you here tonight, Doctor?"

At this point, Liara felt immensely guilty, and momentarily latched onto a potential escape that could hold off giving away her prized possession for another day. "I didn't... interrupt... anything, did I?"

Marshall shook his head. "Kelsey needs to get to bed anyway. I really am not a particularly good father to keep her up as late as I do sometimes."

Liara bit her lip to prevent her from making any snarky comments about _her _father. "If only most fathers were as devoted to their children, this galaxy would no doubt be a much better place."

"Alright, enough about my parenting skills. Back to what brings you here."

The asari dropped her head in shame. "Something I should have given you last night... but didn't. It's important, and my reasons for keeping it were incredibly selfish. I apologize."

"Well, how about you first tell me what this important thing is before I decide if its something I need to even forgive you for." Marshall asked, gesturing for Liara to take a seat.

Her hand paused as it fell over her breast pocket, and the Prothean echo shard tucked inside it. Her own memories, unbidden by herself or the shard, filled her vision, and in that moment her resolve wavered. She couldn't...

"Doctor T'Soni?" Marshall's voice jerked her from those thoughts, and she realized that he was looking at her questioningly, his hand outstretched towards his bed.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she perched herself on the corner of the bed, eyes clenched shut trying to ward off the feelings of the _Normandy's _crew. "I can still see them... when I touch it. They come back to life... in my memories... and I don't want to let that go. But I have to, don't I? Shepard's memories are locked inside, and there might be something vitally important there. I have to give it to you, and if I don't do it now, I might not ever do so."

Marshall found this to be of no help whatsoever. "Doctor, you're not making any sense."

She extracted the shard from her pocket, her hand trembling as she gingerly reached out in Marshall's direction. "This... is an echo shard, originally designed by the protheans. It belonged to Javik, who gave it to Shepard... who gave it to me. Their memories are etched into this artifact."

"You're pretty much relying on pure chance I'll find something useful." Marshall said, as reluctant to take the shard as Liara was to give it up. "If there's anything useful to begin with."

"You should try... nonetheless."

Now it was Marshall's turn to breathe deep. It had been bad enough seeing Shepard through Liara's eyes. To potentially see things through the man that set Marhshall's blood boiling just through his name alone...

But at the same time, Liara was right. There _could _be something stored on that shard that Shepard experienced, a ton of unanswered questions that would be nice to have explanations for. Time to be a big boy and suck it up.

It was to the captain's surprise that nothing happened initially as his fingers closed around the echo shard, nor did anything happen once Liara let go. He was actually able to spin it around by his index fingers, twirl it back and forth across his palm. Nothing.

Liara grimaced at the sight. Of course he'd have no idea how to use it; being used to any contact whatsoever causing whatever lingering biotic residue to enter his mind. "Sorry, Captain." She said in apology, "The protheans were quite familiar with contact memory, anything made specifically for their use was designed with that in mind. There is a specific activation you must follow. Like this..."

She took his hands, gently moving his right so that it gripped the shard at the long, narrow sides, thumb facing inward, only the fingertips touching the artifact. She then adjusted his fingers, lifting the middle two so that they were no longer in contact. Then she bent the middle fingers of his left inward, and guided that hand so that it hovered near the top. "This part is a bit more difficult." She explained, gently moving the hand in ever shrinking circles while watching his eyes. "It's somewhat like trying to find an antenna signal; you have to be in just the right..."

* * *

><p>Marshall knew this sort of pain, actually. The sort of pain that came from having every reason to be dead, yet his body being too damn stubborn to quit. Every breath felt like fire, his skin badly burned, only small scraps of undamaged flesh and the miraculously intact N7 logo on the chestplate just in the corner of his vision serving as clues as to what this memory was.<p>

He was indeed seeing through the eyes of Commander John Shepard.

Marshall's contact memory normally provided some degree of context naturally. Perhaps the echo shard enhanced that ability, because he found he possessed uncanny knowledge of what was going on and had just transpired. This was just after the Crucible's firing, and that Shepard had chosen to destroy all synthetic life rather than trust the two other options presented.

_That _was not something he was going to be terribly eager to tell Seven about. Although, Shepard had also walked directly towards what looked like a power flow conduit while opening small weapons fire into it. Clearly, the commander had not been of sound mind at that moment.

An alien voice then sounded in Shepard's ears... phonetics that Marshall couldn't understand, considering how quickly they were uttered, but that he could at least recognize.

Reticulan.

The disembodied voice continued for several more seconds until two things happened simultaneously; first, a holographic projection appeared at his feet, which Marshall recognized as a Reticulan scholar, with a full length robe and dangling facial tendrils, and second, a voice that was now speaking a human tongue.

"Language extracted. Calibration for communication and transfer to target complete."

"Congratulations to those who have finally managed to successfully construct and utilize the Crucible. For what little good it will do."

"Please do not respond." The hologram continued. "This is not a virtual or artificial intelligence. It is a recording and data transfer program. Nothing more."

After a beat, it bellowed loudly as if to interrupt a speaker, "_I repeat! This... is... a... RECORDING! Do not respond!_"

Yep. Arrogant and assuming the stupidity of lesser races. This was _definitely _a Reticulan program at work.

"I am sure you have many questions. None of which are of importance, I am also sure. There is much to relay before the station you know as the Citadel no doubt falls apart due to the shockwave created by the Crucible's firing."

"Pertinent information is being written into your brain as I speak. It is of considerable importance that you heed this information, unlike the races that designed this weapon and the species that blindly tried to copy it over the eons. I will explain in this more crude manner of communication both to reinforce what is being transferred, as well as to hopefully keep your attention so that you don't wander out of range until said transfer is completed."

"This Crucible merely treats the symptom. It does _not _cure the disease. With any hope, you and your kind will have discovered that the Citadel is effectively a mass relay, with a destination deep within dark space."

"_That _is the true heart of the Reapers. And as long as that heart beats, the threat of the Reapers remains real, especially as the leviathans that were responsible for their construction still exist."

"This program does not contain the information on how to locate or destroy the station my people have named the Reaper's Heart. That would, of course, be stupid, as this Citadel is one of the primary stations of Reaper influence. I do hope you understand that. The vast majority of species have not. Stupidly putting all their vital operations on this station."

"It's truly amazing the imbeciles that manage to pull themselves out of the evolutionary soup. Did _no one _find it _at all odd _that this station was undamaged and completely operational despite evidence of galactic wide catastrophe littered all about? That _never _triggered _any _warnings or alarms? Not even the _slightest _hint of a trap?"

This rant would almost be comical if it wasn't for the gravity of the situation.

"I can only pray the species, your species, that finally put together this disaster of a project is up to the task, though I have my doubts. Not that I know your species. I assume you aren't, because I have little reason to believe otherwise. The fact you used this weapon at all, likely without even knowing what it is or what it does, does not instill me or my colleagues with much hope."

"But you will likely be our best and only hope. My species has little time left. Find the Reaper's Heart. End the nightmare. The transfer of information should be complete or nearly so, depending on the quality of brain matter you possess. _Please _allow at least two more minutes to pass for this program to finish transferring and verifying the data. Depending on your attention span, which if my contemporary species are any indication is disastrously short, it may be difficult; but this patience is of vital importance."

"Thank you, and may the lords beyond death bless your efforts."

"You're likely going to need it."

Marshall could feel Shepard's willpower overcoming his fatigue, followed by a sharp intake of breath, forcing his lungs to fill with air, demanding his body move. If that recording was right, and judging from the information that was flooding his mind, it seemed it was, the fight wasn't over yet.

* * *

><p>Marshall winced in surprise when he returned to himself to see Liara's face inches away, her gaze still locked to his eyes.<p>

His sudden movement also startled her, causing her to lean backward with an exclamation of, "Oh! Captain! I apologize." She blinked rapidly, "I... guess... I saw that the process had worked... and I was eager to see what you had found."

"Confirmation that the Reticulans did indeed set all this in motion." Marshall answered. "Nothing particularly ground breaking, honestly... enlightening, but hardly changes anything."

He attempted to give the shard back to Liara, but instead of clasping her hands around it, she instead put her hands over his and pushed it back towards him. "No." She said, with a wan smile. "I... I think you need this more than I do. I think it would do you good to learn who Shepard _really _was, not the deified version that those around you decided you had to live up to. Besides, I think it's time for me to let go of the past, and move forward with my life."

The problem Marshall was starting to have was that Liara was more than metaphorically moving forward. Her face was slowly closing the distance again, and eventually Marshall's concept of personal space was impinged beyond what he could tolerate. "Doctor T'Soni... could you please... step back?"

Her entire face turned violet with embarrassment as she again recoiled, sitting on her knees and turning her head away. "I need to remember that the crew here are not centenarians, and are more than capable of seeing me from a distance. I should go before I make myself even more the fool."

"Doctor... you are hardly foolish. Give yourself some time to adjust." Marshall advised. "But if I could make a suggestion, it would be settling whatever beef you have with Aria sooner rather than later. I'd rather not have the two of you avoiding each other like you're plagued."

Liara sighed reluctantly, "So you've noticed that, have you?"

"Word gets around."

The asari nodded. It had been a bit of a surprise to see the "Queen of Omega" on board the Iwo Jima, Aria only slightly less surprised than Liara had been. Truth being, they barely knew each other, but their one significant interaction had not been pleasant. "Yes, clearing the air would be beneficial. I'll shall take that under advisement, Captain."

"Then you're dismissed. Git."

The asari retreated from Marshall's cabin, and he gingerly held the echo shard in front of him. Maybe Liara was right. Perhaps it would do him some good to see more of Shepard's life through the eyes of the legend.

Remembering the technique he had been shown, Marshall took several slow, even breaths, and dove in.

* * *

><p><em>Author's note: Fear not, Liaramancers! Marshall ain't takin' your precious sweet asari goddess. It's a fun tease (one that will occur now and again), but it's not a path I'm particularly keen on taking either character. It's one of those things that perhaps if it was a fully branching game that it could be an option (much like Jessie earlier could have been), but for the sake of this story... ehhhhh... I dunno. I feel it, but don't feel it at the same time.<em>

_I know that doesn't make much sense._


	65. Chapter 65

**Chapter 65**

"Thirty minutes to Turvess orbit, Captain."

Upon Chipper's announcement, Marshall stood. "Anything significant to note from scans, Mayes?"

The Ensign chose his words carefully. "There are no signs of particularly advanced civilization sir. No transmissions even on radio frequencies. It's doubtful anyone on that planet could receive a communication even if they wanted to."

That was not good news. "So, the Reapers _did _get to them."

Mayes shook his head. "That's where it gets strange. There are _no _signs of Reaper bombardment. There aren't even any large scale Reaper remains that we can detect. So either the Reapers completely changed their battle tactics for Turvess..."

"Or they never attacked in the first place." Marshall completed. "It would make sense, the raloi wouldn't have particularly posed a threat, having _just _gone interstellar as the Reaper War hit. Turvess would have most likely been a mop-up target after the major players had been exterminated."

"So then, why no contact? Why no advanced communications?" Smoke wondered.

"That's what we're going to find out." Marshall said. "Dani, suit up. Get Lieutenant Rhab and Lieutenant Grimes ready to go as well."

The quarian navigator threw her hands up, and shouted, "Huzzah!"

Smoke almost immediately protested with a half whine, "Awww... but Captain..."

Marshall chided him like one of his students. "Now, Commander, you've gone planetside on the last two missions. Time to let Dani have her turn."

"Sharing is caring." Smoke sighed. "Oh, all right. But if something cool blows up, I want video."

"Done!" Dani agreed, hopping to her feet. It wasn't that she _hated _commanding the bridge of the most sophisticated and advanced vessel in the galaxy at the moment. Quite the opposite. But she was a soldier by trade. She liked getting her hands dirty at ground level too.

Marshall fell in behind the commander, but the procession didn't even move five meters before it was stopped.

"Get. Me. Off. This. Ship." Aria enunciated sharply. Then hastily added with considerable reluctance, "Sir."

"Did you make nice with Doctor T'Soni?" Marshall asked.

The Queen of Omega rolled her eyes. "Oh. Very much yes. We made up so hard it _hurts_. We're like the best of friends now."

Dani slipped into the conversation with an acknowledgment. "That's actually... kinda true, Captain. They've found common ground in the torment of our galley chief."

"So _that's_ why Aethyta forgot the sweet part of Sweet and Sour Chicken last night?" Marshall said. "Alright. Don't tell Lieutenant Grimes, Dani. Aria, suit up. Might not be a bad idea to get a nice multi-cultural cross-section to meet the raloi anyway."

* * *

><p>Dani couldn't help but make one observation once the landing team was loaded and the shuttle was away.<p>

"Let me make sure I have this straight. A group of military misfits is being trusted with restoring diplomatic relations with a species that may have every reason to be scared shitless of anything coming from the skies?"

Marshall had debriefed the team on the first contact with the raloi that literally had the Reaper War follow right on its heels. Details about that time had been sketchy, but from what remained, it was believed that the raloi went into full panic mode, broke all ties with the Citadel races, and tried to literally backtrack centuries of technological development. There was a very strong possibility the _Iwo Jima _and her crew would _not _be welcomed with open arms.

"Yes indeed, Commander. Come on, what could _possibly _go wrong?"

Hermin grunted and regarded the captain with narrowed eyes. "I'll have you know I was discharged from flight duty with honors and have been highly commended at every billet I have been assigned since."

"Which is why you're here." Aria snarked. "So that you can fix the messes we'll no doubt make down there."

"With my luck, the raloi will have a taste for salarian." Harmin grumbled, "Almost everything does."

"Not the galaxy's fault you guys evolved with delicious livers." Aria retorted. Noticing that everyone in the shuttle had raised their gazes to her, she said, "Listen. I was a damned pirate station queen. Believe me, I have done a _lot _of things that civilized society would consider barbaric. Cooking up and eating a salarian was the _least _of them really."

"Besides." She added non-repentantly, "I figure if he's going to try and kill me, what happens to him after he fails is fair game. I slept with a salarian the next night, so that evens it out, right?" She shrugged. "Okay, I tried to kill him the next morning too... but that was unrelated. He claimed I wasn't all that good. I have my pride, alright?"

Aria was one of a handful of people that Marshall could never be certain what was the truth, what was a lie, what was embellished, or a blend of all three. He suspected there was more fact to this story than fiction however.

Chipper coughed loudly to get her captain's attention. "As much as I would _love _to hear more about Agent T'Loak's centuries of unabashed depravity, I would like to suggest a change to our drop zone, sir."

"Reason?" Marshall queried.

A holographic map appeared in the center of the personnel section, with several bright dots flashing in the northeast section. "Indications of eezo extraction through the tree cover. Seems like as good of a clue as any, right?"

"Take us down as near as you can, Chipper." Marshall ordered. He turned to the team, adding, "It still might be a bit of a walk, people. Turvess has an astonishing amount of tree cover, so I hope you're all up to hiking."

* * *

><p>Marshall had jungle experience. He even had forest experience. This was a bit of a blend of the two that he didn't know quite what to make of.<p>

Like tropical belt rainforests, there was a high towering canopy that blocked out the majority of sunlight from reaching ground level. As a result, said ground level was mostly bare even of weeds or lower hanging branches. Where it differed, and more resembled a temperate forest was drier, cooler air as opposed to the heavy, sweltering heat that was normal for this type of tree cover.

He wasn't the only one taken aback. "We do not have trees like this on Rannoch." Dani commented.

"Neither does Reticuli Prime." Marshall said, "But it doesn't matter. Rules are the same here; watch your six..." He then looked up towards the canopy warily, "And your Z."

It took twenty minutes for the team to emerge at the location that had prompted the change in drop zone. The forest canopy above broke in several places, casting sunlight fully on deep trenches hundreds of meters deep. Where trees no doubt had once stood now were signs of civilization, steel rigging along the pit, tunnels no doubt moving deeper into the earth, and even some dilapidated equipment that had no doubt been used to extract ore.

"A mine." Marshall assessed.

Aria kicked at one of the tools, covered with rust and dirt. "Not one that has been used in a long time."

Marshall nodded in agreement, looking up at the construction above, which showed equal signs of disuse. "They dug the ore down there, then I guess flew the ore up to those platforms along the perimeter." He pointed at the wide metal circles constructed around the largest trees.

"I understand they raloi are an avian species," Dani said warily, "But don't you find it curious there is no sign of ground access here?"

"Not deemed worth it considering they could fly even without mass effect fields?" Marshall offered.

Dani did not seem mollified by this, instead her eyes now scanning her surroundings even more suspiciously. "Perhaps..."

"Spit it out commander."

"Humans may not understand, perhaps you were at the top of your food chain since you started developing civilization." The quarian explained. "But what I see are platforms all uniformly constructed at the exact same height, with no way to get to them unless you had a very select set of genetic traits. My genetic history suggests that is the work of prey animals trying to avoid predation."

"Oh?" Marshall asked, "And what predators did the quarians fear and how did they avoid it?"

"Spiders and ursans, mostly." Dani replied. "Quarians became nocturnal, where our eyesight was most efficient at seeing them before they saw us. That policy remained well until we developed reliable firearms that finally turned the natural order on its head."

Meanwhile, Harmin was reaching a similar conclusion. "Is ita shade bit on the strange side that there hasn't seemed to be _any _life, plant or animal, on the surface?" the salarian asked. "That's unusual, isn't it?"

"It might be." Marshall replied. He really didn't like where this conversation was going.

"That's rather curious, Captain." Jessie replied from the bridge. "Because Ensign Mayes is tracking _tons _of life signs and movement all around your position."

That got all four of them to stop dead in their tracks, which was a good thing, as Aria's next step would have put her right on top of where Marshall could now clearly see the ground quivering. "Aria! Move!"

A biotic charge followed by a biotic push nudged the asari out of the path. Unfortunately it put Marshall in the line of attack as four spindly legs snapped forward like a trap, followed by two meter long segmented tail topped with a hooked stinger that slapped into the ground where Marshall would have been without a nimble sidestep.

In one movement, Marshall moved to flank the creature, taking three shots into its side. It trembled from the fire, then curled up into a twitching mess of legs on its side. At that point, he was able to get a good look at what had nearly turned Aria into lunch.

It was a muddy brown color, nearly an identical match to the heavy clay soil it had been buried under, with a quad-segmented body and exoskeleton with two legs to each segment, and two more pincer appendages flanking a pair of powerful looking mandibles. The previously noted stinger tipped tail ended the appearance.

"Bridge..." Marshall said with warning, "Just _how many _life signs did you identify?"

"Ummm... tons?" Jessie replied. "And their moving... towards you?"

And true to Jessie's word, more of the creatures began stirring from their burrows, stepping forward gingerly on thin, and perhaps underused legs.

"Keelah Tar'qat!" Dani snarled, grabbing her shotgun. "Why is it that every time I am on your team we run into _spiders_?"

"These animals would appear more akin to scorpions than their arthropod relations." Harmin corrected, as he turned to see that the team was being quite rapidly surrounded.

"It has eight legs, a carapace, and wants to kill me." Dani retorted in annoyance. "_Close enough!_"

Marshall had no idea just how effective these scorpion-like beasts would be biting through modern armoring, but at the same time was in no hurry to find out. Trying to keep them at bay with a spray of weapons fire, he discovered a likely reason why the raloi built their platforms as high as they did. One target sprung upwards ten meters to avoid one of Marshall's shots, only to be snagged by Aria's biotic slam, thrown back to the planet's surface with a cracking and splitting sound.

The platforms...

Marshall looked straight up, and was relieved to find they were almost directly below one such mining station. Turning to Aria, he asked, "How good are you at lifting?"

"As good as anything else biotic related." The asari asked.

Marshall jerked a thumb upwards. "Think you can toss those two up there while I keep our new friends busy?"

Aria judged the distance, and replied with a dismissive snort, "I could put a krogan into lower orbit. This is nothing."

"Then get lifting, Agent." Marshall ordered, launching himself with a Charge right into the front line of scorpids. As expected, the aggressive tact made him public enemy number one for the entire segment of the advancing horde. Which left the other three to hold off the rear clump while Aria did her duty.

"You ready?" She asked Harmin while Dani took to making friends via matter rounds.

"Does it matter?" The salarian asked in resignation.

"Not really." Aria quipped before throwing him straight up with a flip of her wrist, followed seconds later by the satisfying thud and groan of Harmin landing, perhaps unpleasantly, at his destination. "Alright, dog legs, your turn!"

"Hunh?" Dani grunted, turning her head slightly in Aria's direction a mere breath before gravity decided it no longer cared for the quarian. "Hoik!"

Dani was not used to biotics, even after the time spent on the _Iwo Jima_, and much less with biotics used on _her_. She learned quickly that she got motion sick when in the opposite of free fall.

Harmin learned that as well, when Dani dropped in a heap on the platform a meter away from where he now stood. "Are you alright, Commander?" He asked... just before the quarian ripped off her helmet and vomited on the salarian's feet.

With a gulp and gasp, Dani replied, "I am now."

Harmin regarded his boots, and said with a deadpan sigh, "That does me no end of joy to hear."

Meanwhile, Marshall had sprinted back to where Aria was waiting, then past her to intercept the other flank of scorpids. "Up you go!" He said as he past, lifting the asari straight upward then following it up with a warp and charge to set off a biotic explosion to clear room for his own escape.

It didn't give him quite as much time as he had hoped, as he felt the weight of a jumping scorpid land on his back, knocking him to the ground. He heard the scrape of snapping jaws on the back of his armor, though his HUD didn't report anything more than superficial damage... yet.

A snap of a stinger smashing against the back of his helmet told him that it was probably a good idea to move before more friends joined in the attack. From that prone position, he launched himself upward with a biotic charge, gained his bearings, rotated in mid-air, then charged again so that he slammed into the tree trunk above the platform, crushing his attacker between the tree and its body.

It had the desired effect, Marshall's return to normal mass at the moment of impact cracked and split the scorpid's carapace like a shelled nut in a nutcracker. Not wanting to take any chances up landing, he drew his pistol and fired a single shot between its bloodied eyes.

He turned his back to his team, and asked, "Okay. Be honest. How bad is it?"

Dani instantly said with way too much innocence. "Not at all! Barely a scratch!"

"I have a huge crack in the back of my helmet, don't I?"

This time the quarian was much more blunt. "Yes. And two shallow punctures over your shoulder blades."

At least the armor did its job. It was a simple matter for omni-gel to perform a self repair of the damage, though Lieutenant Grimes likely wouldn't like him. That stuff was _not _plentiful anymore.

Harmin aired a thought of his, "You don't suppose... those things... got to the raloi, do you?"

Aria had climbed one level of scaffolding toward another smaller platform to scout ahead. Overhearing Harmin's question, she answered, "Doubt it. _Th__ese _might have, though."

Marshall scaled the scaffold in three moves, Dani and Harmin taking up the rear. Upon that second level, Aria pointed to the most decayed remains of what had been three human husks.

"Jessie, confirm to the Council that Reapers _were _present on Turvess." Marshall relayed to the bridge. "Do we have a confirmation of any raloi life signs?"

"No, sir." Jessie answered, "I mean, there's _plenty _of life, sir. It stands to reason that the raloi survived, but any records about biotic or genetic indicators that we'd have access to didn't. The Citadel honored the raloi desire to have their records erased when they withdrew from all interstellar treaties. We're sure there's raloi down there, Captain. We just don't have any idea where."

"Copy that." Marshall said. His eyes followed the path of scaffolding up into the shroud of the canopy. It didn't hold much more promise than the mine below; heavily rusted out and abandoned, with holes and gaps consistent with a lack of maintenance. He gestured for them to follow what would prove to be a good two hundred meter climb that wasn't always stable.

"We had to go here." Harmin grumbled as the team pushed towards the green foliage of the canopy. "To rebuild ties with a species that wanted to get as far away from us as we could a century ago. For all we know they're going to be waiting for us with guns drawn the minute we stick our head into the leaves."

"Could you _please _not invoke Marthy's Law?" Dani snarled, having taken up the rear because she felt the salarian had been intentionally lagging up the previous ladder.

"_Murphy's _Law." Harmin corrected, "And that's not exactly an accurate law to invoke here anyway."

Marshall ignored them as he moved into the tree cover. He suspected at one time, this would have been cut clear for shipments from the mine below, but had sense overgrown, vines and branches often wrapping around and through the rungs.

"And why would a race that can fly build ladders anyway?" Harmin asked.

Aria cut in with the answer, "The raloi couldn't hover. They needed perch and climbing points for maintenance, no doubt."

Marshall could see the tree cover thinning just ahead. "Cut the chatter." Pushing upward, the spectre snapped two interlaced branches in his path, and emerged into a gap in the canopy.

Said gap cut 15 meters from the bottom to the top, though the trim was rough and neglected, with long tangles of vines crossing the lot Marshall stepped into. On the other side of what had been a no doubt major road was a dilapidated and crumbling square building, no doubt a processing center for the delivered ore.

"Well, this isn't a good sign." Aria quipped tiredly.

To the west, the road continued approximately two kilometers... in the barest sense. The suspension beams that kept it moored to the trees were intermittently snapped, the surface potholed and eventually collapsed entirely. The road to the east didn't look all that much better, but it was at least intact for as far as he could see.

It was as good of any direction to take.

"I just hope there's a good extraction point somewhere." Aria groused as Marshall gestured them onto the next phase of their hike. "I really don't want to climb back down into the layer of scorpion hell."

Marshall agreed in every way but audibly.

He decided it was a _good _thing that the signs of raloi civilization was showing signs of disrepair. It meant it hadn't been ravaged by Reaper forces, and was confirmation of the theory that the raloi were around here... somewhere.

Signs of that somewhere started to come into focus with dusk; as the highway reached a junction. There was a large concrete barrier between the junction and the road they were on, clearly signifying a closed path rather than desolation. In addition, the junction featured an operating light source hanging from an electrical cable over it, flickering to life in the increasing darkness.

"Well, look what we have here." Marshall said with a smile. "I think we've found our first clue."

By the time the team reached the junction, night had set on their part of Turvess. Marshall hurdled the barricade, and onto what was now clearly and evidently maintained tarmac.

Aria wasn't impressed. "Tar based surfacing?" She said distastefully, "Why not just go back to loose gravel and pack animals?" She scoffed as she stepped further, "This won't dissuade the Reapers _anyway_. Our intel gathering before the Reapers hit Thessia in force was that they targeted any civilization that advanced beyond alloyed metal. All this stagnation would do if the Reapers came back at full strength is make the raloi an easier go of it."

"They were, and possibly still are, scared." Harmin interjected.

"Scared?" Aria spat. "_Scared_? You want to know scary, Lieutenant? Did you have any ancestors on the Citadel when the Reapers hit? When they drug it a quarter of the way across the galaxy to Earth, the Keepers harvesting people like fucking slabs of meat right in front of you.. fighting for your goddamned life for three weeks while the rest of the galaxy got its shit together to try and fight back. And that's leaving out the six fucking _months _spent marooned on one of the Citadel's wrecked arms while the galaxy tries to figure out how to put the whole thing back together... six months with nothing but the fucking _dead _all around you... scavenging for food and water wherever, and however, you could get it..."

This was probably the most emotion Marshall, the _Iwo Jima's _crew, or quite possibly the whole damn galaxy, had ever seen from the Queen of Omega. She threw out her arms as she drifted into the center of the highway. "So, yeah, Lieutenant. I know _fucking scary_. I've seen what the Reapers can do with my own two fucking eyes. I've smelled a husk's breath, and watched a brute pop off a salarian's head. And ya know what I'm doing with that fear? I'm here to do whatever I can to stop it from happening again!"

She spat on the dividing mark at the highway median, and snared, "I didn't go back to Thessia and tell them to self-immolate ourselves back to the mother fucking Industrial Age. Fucking cowards; the whole lot of..."

Her rant was cut off as she noticed rapidly approaching lights from up ahead. Of course, by the time she noticed it, the wheeled automobile was nearly on top of her, a screech of braking mechanisms, and rapidly spinning ball-shaped wheels preventing an impact. The domed hood and doors scraped against the railing at the edge of the highway, then spun the vehicle in a full circle before it finally ground to a stop with a stench and smoke of burnt petrol rubber.

There was a long beat of silence, before a door on the near side of the vehicle pooped upward, and the first raloi Marshall had ever seen emerged with one clawed hand grasping the side of the door frame.

It turned out the hand was in fact one of three legs, spaced evenly along a cream and yellow rotund abdomen. Where the arms would have been were instead wings on a tapered chest, narrowing to an inhumanly long neck and a face dominated by a curved beak and bright blue fringe at the top of its head.

From the windows, two smaller raloi poked their heads into view, intrigued by whatever adventure was unfolding before their eyes. The parent, presumably, finally got a good long look at exactly what it nearly hit, and the reaction was immediate.

Panic.

It screeched violently, and Marshall discovered that his translator worked well enough to make out generalities of what it said as it scrambled back into its vehicle. The histories were true, the blue people had returned, and the demon machines would soon follow.

The juveniles soon picked up on the adults fright, squawking frightfully and mostly unintelligibly as they were ordered to keep their heads down and not look back.

Marshall didn't even get a chance to step in and intercede before the adult slammed the door shut again, turned over the vehicle's engine, and tore down the highway again leaving a trail of blackened rubber and smoke in its wake.

"That could have went better." Dani quipped.

Marshall didn't respond, as he was already on the hunt. "Ensign Mayes, can you track the object or life signs that just crossed our path?"

"Absolutely, sir. I take it those were raloi?"

"In their equivalent of an automobile, yes. They are no doubt heading to some population center. Find it."

"Now that we have a bio-signature that we can match, that shouldn't be a problem, Captain."

"Dani, Aria, Harmin, clear out some of this canopy so that Chipper can extract us. Once we find out where those raloi were going, we'll _really _get their attention."


	66. Chapter 66

_Author's Note: I've updated my profile with some new additions that might interest some of you. Go check it out!_

**Chapter 66**

"I stand corrected." Dani commented dryly. "_This _could have gone better."

Turns out raloi reacted to alien species dropping uninvited into the middle of their city about the way Marshall should have expected; with panic and violence, especially since at some point in the last century the asari had become connected to the Reapers as agents _of _said Reapers.

"You know this is all _your _fault." Dani added to Aria nonchalantly, as if the hail of bullets pinging against the barricade they had set up were of no consequence. Not that they_ were_, as the raloi had indeed turned the clock back to the point of ballistic weapons. It would take concentrated fire from likely that entire police line for a good ten minutes before Dani's magnetic barrier would even acknowledge that something was hitting it.

"_My _fault." Aria repeated in deadpan. "Do tell me what I did again."

"You can hear them. The asari are the harbingers of the demon machines." Dani explained. "If you would have had the courtesy to _not _be asari, this wouldn't be happening. You know, you asari could have told everyone this a hundred years ago. I'm sure the Reapers were _very _confused when their agents started fighting them."

"It's a curse. Asari aren't good communicators I guess."

It's not often that Marshall watched a comedy show while facing live fire. Hermin, however, wasn't quite as at ease. "You do realize that they are still shooting at us?"

"They are?" Dani asked, sticking her head up over the concrete, and held position for fifteen seconds as gunpowder accelerated bullets bounced harmlessly off her barrier. Ducking back down, she said, "Hunh. So they are."

"You'd think they'd run out of ammunition eventually." Aria noted.

"Don't you think we should try and convince them we aren't a threat?" Harmin offered. At this point, he wasn't worried about themselves as much as innocent raloi getting caught in the line of fire.

Dani sighed comically, "We tried that, remember?" Her tone then shifted to faux happy, "Hi! We come in peace... oh! You say hello with _bullets!_"

As much as Dani was over-simplifying the sequence of events, Marshall had to agree it was a pretty accurate summation as well. The _Yukon's _descent had drawn the attention of law enforcement almost immediately, and it had been roughly three seconds after Marshall's feet hit the ground that they opened fire.

The same sort of fire that opened on him from his and Hermin's right flank. A small strike team had finally decided to try and circle around, raising their front leg to fire and hopping forward to advance. In response, Marshall burst a small shockwave to rip up the tarmac in front of him to form another barricade.

"I don't think they're going to give up, Captain." Dani observed.

"It doesn't seem like they're going to get the hint that they aren't going to hurt us, either." Aria added. "My worry is that might try to escalate their response further."

Marshall nodded. "I didn't want to get rough, but they might just leave us no other... move!"

His shout was in response to a sewer grate in front of them shifting, and the raloi who's head popped up from the pipes below found itself looking at four matter pistols promising to turn said head into finely seared plasma. It's bright red fringe flattened at the sight, and it dropped its head in a respectful bow.

"Greetings!" It said, the lower half of its beak dropping with a forked tongue curling back and quivering. "My name is Kralk. I do apologize for our less than sophisticated kin's welcome. If you would be so kind as to follow me, I can present you to those of us much more appreciative of your visit."

Dani and Aria both shrugged at the suggestion. They no doubt figured anywhere else would accomplish more than staying where they were. Hermin regarded the sewer with unease, but was able to shrug it off quickly enough.

"Somehow, I suspect when all is said and done, that walking through a bird shit sewer won't even rank in the top three most disgusting things I'll encounter on this tour of duty." He said with a frown.

Aria nodded. "Wouldn't even make a top one hundred list for me."

Even though no one could see it because of the quarian's helmet, they could _hear _the smile in Dani's voice. "One day, I will _have _to hear this list."

Aria grinned. "Number sixty three is a vat of krogan placenta gathered from Genophage victims."

The smile in the quarian's voice left quickly. "I don't want to hear this list anymore."

"I'm sure Aria can tell us all about it while we evac." Marshall ordered, gesturing to the open grate. "Lead the way, Mr. Kralk. Anywhere's got to be better than this."

111111

Their escort had not been exaggerating when they said they were going somewhere more receptive. The first clue was that an element zero powered shuttle was waiting for them at the extraction point at the end of their sewer dive.

Though the degree of improvement was up for debate.

The party settled in as Kralk tapped the cockpit divider as indication to move. "It's fortunate that we detected your entry. Unfortunate that you picked the wrong side of the planet to land on."

"If you knew we were approaching, why didn't you try to communicate?" Marshall asked suspiciously.

Kralk shrugged his wings. "Couldn't confirm your identity initially, then discovered our current comm channels aren't compatible with whatever you use nowadays."

Marshall groaned. "We use primarily QEC. You probably use something similar to the old Citadel subspace channels, don't you?"

"Which we never bothered to open when we didn't detect anything on this side of the planet." Aria added.

"Adapted to adjust for the loss of the mass relay, yes." Kralk replied. "Might be why you didn't catch our transmissions. Probably looking for us to be bouncing off comm relays in space and orbit. We developed our own buoy system through the top of our forest canopy. Keeps us 'silent' to outside visitors."

Kralk noticed the nervous expressions across his guests. "I won't lie, even my people are wary of visitors. But I hope you'll understand where we're coming from. The very last communications we received from the galaxy as a whole were from Thessia as the planet was being razed. Then the Reapers hit _us._"

"How bad?" Marshall asked.

"To the Nirsen here? Bad. Much of their infrastructure was damaged. Lost seven million in the first three days. And the Reapers didn't even bring any of their big guns. My people, the Primir, were much more lucky. By the time they were about to launch an attack on our borders... their forces... stopped. We got hit by a red wave of energy, and the Reapers dropped like someone had hit an off switch."

"The Crucible Pulse." Marshall explained. "It stopped the Reapers... temporarily."

That caused Kralk's fringe to ruffle. "Is... an attack imminent? Are... we about to be...?"

Marshall shook his head. "We don't know. The hope is that we can stop it _before _it becomes a rampaging genocidal menace this time."

"I'm afraid the raloi won't be of much help now as we were before. We weren't exactly on the cutting edge of development last century, and we haven't progressed that much since either."

Marshall waved off Kralk's thoughts, "I'll explain what we're looking for to your leaders. They'll probably have a better idea how to proceed."

The raloi nodded, "Understood. I shouldn't be prying anyways. I'm just the escort service."

Marshall moved to his comm. "Smoke, you still following us?"

"Aye, Ghost." He answered from the bridge. "Chipper's in upper orbit tailing you all as well."

"Good. I'd rather not impose on our hosts hospitality more than we already have." The captain said. "Any luck narrowing down exactly where we should be searching?"

"Somewhat? I guess? The problem, as I'm sure you well know, is that these chronicles have _no _telltale signs that we can pick up on when they're dormant, which at this point in the galactic cycle it would be... hey!"

Marshall was about to ask the reason for Smoke's abrupt protest when the answer came to him in Liara's voice, the asari no doubt "borrowing" the QEC at the captain's chair. "I apologize, Commander. Captain, have you ever played a game called 'Hot and Cold'?"

"Not really... but I'm familiar with it."

Liara then said, "The artifacts _do _have at least one singular operating process. They wake from their dormant state when they sense biotic energy. The closer you are, the more it reacts to your presence. Shepard and I used to play that game until we could locate the artifact. We have a rough idea where on Turvess it is. Between you and Agent T'loak, the two of you should be able to do the same thing."

Aria's eyes narrowed. "And how exactly would it let us know we are getting close?"

"Oh, you'll know." Liara replied. "It feels like a static field, though something only biotics sense. The field gets stronger the closer you are. The problem is that the Reticulans could, and often did, hide them in some really hard to access places."

"Like on Reticuli Prime, where the mechanism burrowed more than three kilos underground." Marshall said.

"By my experience, _all _of them were like that." Liara confirmed. "All of them underground, and all of them deep."

Dani exhaled, "So we _do _have to go through scorpion hell again. Wonderful."

"Let's worry about what's in front of us for now." Marshall advised. "Once we've made official contact with raloi leaders and established communication for them with the Council, _then _we'll worry about wading through giant scorpions."

11111

The main floor of Primir's Ministry Hall was a well lit amphitheater, empty save for three elder raloi, two males and one female judging from plumage coloring. They had introduced themselves a Minister Sresh, Minister Klee, and Minister Revish, and wasted no time ceding the floor to Marshall so that he could give them the full run down of what he knew and what he suspected.

And when Marshall actually laid it out all at once, he was a bit surprised to see how little it actually was.

"From what we can tell, all the information you have on the Reapers is second-hand?" Minister Sresh said warily, his faded blue and red fringe distracting as it rose and fell.

"Yes." Marshall replied, "A video archive from Sur'Kesh, testimony from a yagh about Parnack, and our own investigation of Reaper-influenced technology on Eden Prime."

Minister Revish, the female of the group identified by her drab brown feathers and lack of fringe, confirmed, "But no first hand sightings."

Marshall confirmed, "No. But considering how badly the last conflict with the Reapers went, surely you can understand why the Citadel Council would rather _not _wait for a fleet of Reaper craft to come bulldozing through the galaxy this time."

"But to ask ourselves to provide assistance for an enemy we don't even know exists..."

Marshall interjected, "We aren't asking for military assistance. We don't want you to start girding for war. The Council simply wants to re-establish ties in _case _such resources need to be pooled. In _case _you need to bunker down in the future. At this point, we're still hoping to stop the potential problem before it becomes one."

"And that is the other matter that brings you here?" Klee surmised.

"Yes, Minister." Marshall called up a projection of Turvess's surface, a flashing dot where the Reticulan artifact could supposedly be located, off the northwest coast of the opposite continent. "Does this mean anything to you?"

"The Scrawatti Coast." Revish said. "It's a cold country up there. Not much of anything useful except for old eezo deposits, which we don't have much use for. The deposits that are there are mostly depleted and take considerable refinement to be made useable."

"We believe there is an artifact from a previous civilization that might help us with solving the Reaper problem. It might have revealed itself at some point just before the Reaper War."

Shresh tilted his head, still flapping his fringe annoyingly. "The Scrawatti is largely uninhabited wasteland, unsuited for our kind. Even if it _did _try to reveal its presence, it's likely none of intelligence would have seen it. We certainly don't have any history that I know of about any alien influence before the coming of the asari."

"Would it be acceptable for us to look?" Marshall asked. Not that a "no" was going to stop him, but he felt offering the courtesy would be appropriate.

The three raloi conferred amongst themselves before regarding Marshall and Revish saying, "We suppose there is no harm in it, though if you would be willing to wait until morning, we could probably muster proper support to assist you."

"Proper support?"

Klee's tongue flicked across the sides of his beak, "Despite our status as the most advanced civilization on our planet, the raloi do _not _control much of Turvess's surface. We have to fight tooth and nail for our few mining operations with the naxi, arachnid burrowing creatures that remain the apex predator on the planet."

Marshall rubbed the back of his head. "Oh. Those things. Yeah, they aren't very friendly, are they?" Marshall had to admit that if the 'naxi', as the raloi called them, were around the site in mass that it could be an annoyance at the very least. "How long would it take to put together a support team? I'd rather not waste time."

The three consulted among themselves again, and this time Shresh who answered, "Would two hours be too much of a delay?"

"No, I suppose not."

Shresh's feathers fluffed in what he assumed was approval judging from the chirp to his voice. "Splendid! We'll have a vehicle take you to our finest accommodations while you wait! Thank you for being so cooperative!"

"We will comm you once our team is ready, and we shall seek to modify our communications to receive and send word to the new Citadel Council. We aren't certain how much help we would potentially be... but anything is better than nothing."

"Indeed it is." Marshall said with a parting salute, "Thank you, Ministers."

"And to you Spectre Brasser."

He took his leave of the assembly hall, his team waiting for their captain at the other side of the double doors separating the hall from the foyer. "They want us to wait for a support team to be assembled; which makes sense if we're going back down into that madhouse on the surface."

Dani sighed in obvious relief, "Could it be that we're going to have good fortune on a mission?"

Aria winced, "Well now that you said that, we won't."

"_That _is a proper invocation of Murphy's Law." Harmin added.

Dani eyed the salarian angrily. "Just bear in mind when a quarian says they are going to bite your head off, it is not necessarily a figure of speech."

Marshall pushed past the jawing trio, and pointed forward. "Let's get outside and wait for our chauffeur, shall we?"

The wait took nearly an hour in and of itself, something that even the two uniformed raloi sentries found curious when Marshall mentioned the peculiar delay. "It's usually a matter of no more than twenty minutes for even an impromptu summons." The primary officer had said. "It _is _curious that a driver hasn't responded yet."

"At this point, we could probably just stay _here _and wait for the support team." Dani grumbled.

"This planet is cold when you're not moving around." Hermin mentioned with a shiver. "I almost want to throw on my helmet and turn on climate control."

Marshall didn't think it was _that _bad, but on that same token, the salarian's native climate was what humans would consider tropical. "I won't stop you, Lieutenant." The captain said.

Hermin shook his head. "Oh, I couldn't. It's horribly rude to cover your face in a non-combat setting."

Fortunately for the JAG, it was at that point that a black closed top taxi shuttle pulled to an awkward if slow stop at the curb. The driver's side door opened, and a raloi male with green and yellow striped feathers and a black vest nearly stumbled out, though he managed to right himself before taking a nasty fall. "I am so very sorry I am late!" It meekly said in apology, "There was a frightful collision on the way here, and I got caught in the gridlock."

The primary officer's eyes narrowed, "I'm sorry... who are you? You're not Rask."

The chauffeur shook his head and grimaced, "I am Crawt, Rask's replacement. He... was one of the drivers caught in the collision."

"Oh." The officer said. "I'll need to see your credentials and confirm it. There was no word given to us of a change."

Crawt nodded vigorously, handing over a black leather-like billfold. "Of course."

The officer then turned around, and opened a comm... just in time for Crawt to lift his wings, revealing the raloi's short, and near useless arms...

... At least, when they weren't holding a sidearm that put a round into the back of the primary officer's head.

A quick turn and a shot from the hip caught the secondary officer in the neck. Crawt ignored Marshall and his team as they drew their own weapons, and said nothing to Marshall's demand that he drop his weapon immediately. Instead, the raloi scrambled to the shuttle, popped open all four doors, and said, "Get in! We don't have much time before this whole place is swarming with reinforcements!"

Marshall, not surprisingly, wasn't about to comply. "You just committed a double homicide and want us to take a ride with you?"

"If you value your lives; yes." Crawt said with irritation, "I understand that this is probably not the best way to introduce myself, but rest assured, the Ministry has no intention of providing you with a support team. There _is _military personnel waiting for you, I'm sure... but they are being mustered to kill you. I promise I will explain in greater detail on the way... but here and now is _not _the best time and place to do it."

Harmin interjected, tapping Marshall on the shoulder and saying, "As your legal representative, any honest civilization would categorize our current position as under duress. If the raloi were to hold us in contempt for following this fellow until we got more information, I would not consider them a species worth associating with."

"That's why you're the JAG." Marshall grumbled. "Alright, everyone in. You _better _have a damn good explanation for this, or I'm liable to do the raloi authorities job _for _them."

Marshall took the front seat, passengers side, making sure Crawt was painfully aware of the presence of Marshall's sidearm. The other three slipped into the back and Crawt wasted no time closing the doors and accelerating away from the assembly hall, taking a deep dive at the first opportunity down towards the surface.

"The Ministry is already under the sway of the entities you call 'Reapers', and have been for the last decade at the very least." Crawt finally explained. "This country has been abducting civilians for about that same amount of time to fuel the war engine that the leader of the Reapers demands."

As Marshall could not recall seeing this raloi anywhere that he could have overheard Marshall or anyone on his team suggest the Reapers still existed, it lent a hint of plausibility to Crawt's position, but obviously, Marshall needed a bit more convincing. "How do you know this?" He demanded.

"I represent the Primir Press Corps. Several of their journalists had started investigating stories of their government abducting former citizens. I myself was your standard gun for hire... until my two sisters, their mates, and their children wound up as part of the missing."

Aria didn't buy the story, "The Reapers don't do subtle. They've _never _done subtle. The amount of a species they need to build even a destroyer is to the tune of _millions_. I can't imagine a raloi government being able to kidnap that many without setting off some huge blow back."

"They were doing something similar to this on Eden Prime." Dani countered. "There certainly weren't millions of quarians on the Tonbay by any stretch."

"Perhaps the Reapers are still assessing the viability of the quarians and the raloi. If what Wrex presented is to be believed, they're more than capable of the global genocide we're all familiar with." Marshall said. Addressing Crawt again, he then asked, "How can you be so certain the raloi leaders are being influenced by the Reapers anyway?"

"Because I witnessed a meeting between the ministers you talked to and the Reaper's leader."

"How'd you manage that?"

Crawt focused on the path ahead as they broke through the canopy. "I'm a master of infiltration, human. As part of their investigation, I slipped in as serving staff as a meeting was taking place. Guards weren't quick enough to turn me away before I got a good earful of their conversation."

The raloi clicked it's tongue in distaste, "If I hadn't known better... if my family wasn't already Reaper food... I'd have been convinced their leader was doing this all for the good of the galaxy. It was a real smooth talker, but forceful when it needed to be to get those ministers nice and scared. It knows how to play people. I'm damn terrified of what the Reapers could do once they have numbers."

Aria was not one to be easily swayed. This was no different. "Captain, I still don't buy it. I _know _Reapers. I've _fought them_. This isn't their style... maybe someone is playing Reaper to take advantage of the raloi, but..."

"Still not convinced, are you?" Crawt said. "That's fine. You'll have no choice to believe me once we get where we're going."

"Where _are _we going, anyway?" Marshall queried.

"To the one place they don't want you going... the site that they've been casing for the last five years."


	67. Chapter 67

_Author's Note: Oi... a little bit of downtime between all my projects. I probably **should **be working on my third book, but meh, not really feeling it right now (not that the first two are setting sales on fire anyway). I haven't forgotten about this, promise!_

**Chapter 67**

The vehicles path took a sharp and continued path down through the lower canopy. The descent was _not _missed by the passengers.

"Keelah... do not tell me we're going back down into spider hell..." Dani whimpered.

"As I said earlier, they were closer to scor..." Hermin began.

"_I don't care!" _Dani screamed into the salarian's ear, making him wince painfully.

"If by 'spider hell', you mean naxi territory, I'm afraid so." Crawt said grimly. "It's the only place where no one would dare follow us. It's how you survive as a fringe resistance... by being slightly crazier than your enemies."

Aria snorted once in amusement. "I like this guy. He gets it."

"Don't worry, we have measures in place that keep the naxi from attacking us."

"And what sort of measures are those?" Marshall queried.

Crawt made a clicking sound that could have been sheepishness. "Let's just say you might want to hope that your helmets have good scent filters. We're used to it by now, but..."

Dani had her helmet on and sealed before Crawt could even begin the next sentence. "Done."

Harmin wasn't far behind. "Been waiting for an excuse to turn on climate control."

Aria and Marshall shared a long look of resignation before following suit with their companions. "Remind me again why I'm on this mission." The asari said.

"Because you demanded to get off the ship."

"Fuck." Aria deadpanned, "I was hoping I remembered wrong so I could blame someone else."

The road changed to either gravel or dirt judging from how the ride changed, more jostling and bumps. Even more, while Marshall couldn't see much through the heavily tinted windows, it certainly appeared like... "Are we underground?"

"Indeed." Crawt answered. "As I said, you have to be pretty crazy to survive as a resistance cell."

"The spiders home field... yah... that's pretty crazy." Dani retorted. "I'm guessing that's why we couldn't find any of you through thermal imaging."

Crawt laughed. "Rather amusing, considering where you landed was pretty much right on top of us. In a sense of irony, that is the _worst _place for us to have tried to reach you. It's a good kilometer down, and five to the entrance of our den. By the time any of us could have responded, the four of you were long gone."

"And how the hell do you survive with that army of naxi above you?" Marshall wondered.

His question initially went unanswered as Crawt pulled to a stop. "We're here." The raloi said, and hopped out of the vehicle as Marshall lifted the side door latch and slid it open towards the vehicle's rear.

He took the lead, stepping out and regarding his surroundings. It didn't look particularly different from the raloi architecture he had already seen, except for the fact that it was all underground and sitting underneath a geodesic dome comprised of steel plates. He wasn't particularly convinced by the defenses he could see, "Those naxi scraped and punctured _my _reflexive armoring. Something tells me steel wouldn't dissuade them if they wanted what was inside badly enough."

"Four centimeter thick steel plates aren't entirely appetizing." A female raloi said with something near a chirp. "But it helps that we keep them fed with their usual prey of soilworms. They've become our most effective natural defense from any prying eyes. I do apologize if the smell is... overbearing. Naxi tend to leave some rather... odoriferous droppings."

The four 'aliens' turned sharply towards the source. Two raloi, male and female, appeared, nodding in deference to Crawt. The female's plumage was a vibrant orange at the tip that faded to cream at the base. The male was a drab and mottled brown with gray, and a white fringe. They clearly had some degree of authority, as Crawt saluted and stepped away.

"Good day, friends. I am Skrana." The female said, then with a gesture to her companion said, "This is my partner, Frawks."

The male nodded, "I wish we could meet under better circumstances, but our agents inside Primir have got us up to date on what you were looking for. Skrana and I can update you further."

Skrana asked the team to follow, speaking along the way as they approached a low single story circular building made of brick and mortar. "Reaper elements have been scouring the Scrawatti for five years, as far as we can determine. They could have been at it for longer with indoctrinated servants. It was only five years ago that we saw husks arrive."

At that point, they were inside the small building, which seemed to be nothing more than a single room with a circular table low to the floor. Another female raloi, mostly red with streaks of white, handed over a thin plastic file box, which Frawks accepted and set on the table, Skrana using her middle leg to retrieve a bundle of what looked to be photographs.

Offering them to Marshall, he started flipping through the bundle, and said grimly, "Fucking hell."

Before any of them could ask, Marshall drew two pictures from the group, and held them in Dani's direction. "Bosh'tet selak!" She hissed, instantly recognizing quarian husks like the ones found on Eden Prime, along with clearly salarian influenced husks no doubt taken from Sur'kesh.

"It gets better." Marshall said with a sarcastic grin, holding up another photo that didn't require much imagination to identify as a Reaper-husk of a yagh.

"Nope." Harmin said, shaking his head animatedly. "Nope nope nope. I quit. I'm done. I resign. Have fun folks!"

Aria slapped him across the back of the head. "You're not going anywhere lawyer."

"Yes he is." Marshall replied. He tested his QEC, found that it was able to clear the earth to the _Iwo Jima_, and said, "Wrex, Ensign O'Carter, suit up. Chipper is bringing you down. Lt. Rhab will be taking the shuttle back. We can't waste time, we need to hit by tonight."

"Moving by tonight?" Skrana said. "It will take several days to reach the Scrawatti dig site. There's a no fly zone extending nearly three hundred kilometers around it. Any unauthorized vehicle will be targeted immediately."

"She's right." Frawks agreed. "I have no doubt you have mechanisms we've never seen, but..."

Marshall thrust the pictures into Frawks chest. "You don't know what those things are. _I _do. Those are _new _Reaper forces, not remnants from the first war. Which means the Reapers are moving as quickly as they can. We need to move quickly as well."

Liara cut into the QEC, and offered, "The Normandy's stealth systems were able to hide from Reaper detection, as long as we weren't doing something that blatantly declared our location like actively scanning planets and systems."

"Chipper, how do you feel about a blind night drop?" Marshall asked the bridge.

"Why do you ask questions in which my opinion is irrelevant, sir?" Chipper grumbled, then with a tired exhale added, "As long as I have coordinates for the drop and pick-up, I can do fully instrument guided flight."

"Good. I'll work on that now. Be ready." Marshall said. "Alright, I need _all _the information you have on the area. Topography, latest intel, anything you've got."

Liara cut in again. "Spectre, I have more that you will no doubt find vital to this mission."

"Go on..." He said, motioning for Dani to start sorting out the papers that Skrana was trying to push into his hands.

"Have you ever played a game called 'Hot and Cold?'"

"No, but I've heard of it."

"Even if you find the complex it's hidden in, the artifact itself can be extremely hard to find. As you might have felt, they resonate at a very specific frequency sensitive to detection by biotics. Shepard and I would play that 'Hot and Cold' game to find the ones we uncovered."

That reminded Marshall of the memories he had from Miranda and Jack's demise. He switched to the armory, and said, "Lieutenant Grimes, do you have anything that could potentially drill through rock?"

Larisa scoffed. "Do I? Sir, we have plasma ignition switches here that could burn through the Iwo Jima's hull if I felt so inclined. Wouldn't be hard to modify a rifle that could serve as a drilling torch."

"You have until 1900. Get to it quickly. Get Seven and Ensign O'Carter to help however they can."

"Aye aye, sir!"

Liara jumped in again, "There could be one complication, Spectre."

Marshall grimaced. He knew it was going too smoothly. "What's that, Doctor?"

"Reapers, even dead ones, interfere with the artifact's... broadcasting. I'm not sure how large the range is, but we had to clear out several inactive husks before Shepard or I could feel its presence."

Marshall groaned, "Which means we can't be fighting Reaper forces while we're looking."

Dani didn't seem bothered by that. "I'm willing to be decoy bait. It'd be more fun than watching you two get all touchy-feely." She then added hastily when Aria and Marshall both gave her glares she could _feel_. "With... the artifact... I mean... unless... the two of you..."

"No." Marshall and Aria insisted sternly.

Aria then immediately whipped her head in _Marshall's _direction with a warning, "Don't you start _those _cliches with me like speaking in unison, Spectre."

Before he could even argue, she added testily, "Or arguing about pithy things. Drop it."

Marshall put up his hands to surrender the issue. He had no idea what Aria was going on about, and if he was being totally honest, really didn't _want _to know either.

Dani spoke up, "All this data is scanned and sent to the bridge, Captain. Chipper and Mayes are sorting it out now."

"Good."

Skrana had been absorbing all this planning, and came to a very correct conclusion, "So, I take it you have no intentions of helping our resistance."

Marshall shook his head tentatively, "Even if we _wanted _to engage in a full campaign, we're just one ship. The Citadel Council will most certainly hear about it, but that is their decision on how and when to act. This crew's mission is extremely limited in scope."

Skrana curled the tip of her right wing over the top of Frawks's left. "Can you give us one moment, Spectre Brasser?" With her other wing, she pointed towards the exit.

Marshall motioned for his team to comply, and they filtered out of the building and took position in a circle three meters outside. "Clearly they were hoping we could provide more than us to pop in and pop out." He said, with a regretful glance towards the now closed door.

Aria had spun her head about to a trio of raloi rubbernecking the alien visitors. "Keep moving!" She snarled angrily, watching the three out of the corner of her eyes as they picked up their pace. "Clearly they were hoping we'd give them weapons." She snarked.

"Can you blame them?" Dani retorted. "They're clearly outnumbered, hiding in a hole, with spiders as their primary protection against _reapers_." She threw a warning finger right in Hermin's face in case the salarian tried to correct her.

"Against _husks_." Aria corrected with a snort. "Maybe you don't know what Reapers are. I do. Believe me, if you have to wonder if there's a Reaper around, there isn't one. They aren't exactly going to win a game of hide-and-seek."

Dani laughed, "Then clearly you didn't know there was a Reaper Destroyer on Rannoch during the war. It was hidden quite well. Shepard and his crew only found it when they tried to hit a Geth facility with a high-atmosphere torpedo strike."

"Regardless, whether we would want to help them or not, we really don't have the resources to do so." Marshall interjected sternly. "Nor does it change anything on our end. I wasn't planning on raloi aid for this mission. The Council is going to have to decide on how to handle Turvess."

Aria laughed bitterly, "Hah! If it were me, I'd tell them they were out of luck. The raloi want to hide from their problems? Let 'em."

Dani again took exception to Aria's indifference, "Did you know some raloi during the war or something? You've taken their actions during it pretty personally."

"We needed every able body we could get for that war." Aria spat. "Every ally we could get our hands on. These birds tucked their heads into their cloaca and let us fight that war for them without offering one damned credit. Me, a damned smuggling and illicit goods baron, was throwing down _millions _of my own wealth and resources into the fight. These cowards? Nothing."

"And what could the raloi really have offered other than cannon fodder? Do you sneer spitefully at my people because we only numbered a few million men and women?"

"At least your people _fought_. The quarians gave as much as they could."

Hermin had an entirely different topic he wanted to broach. "Spectre, may I have a word?"

Marshall nodded, allowing Dani and Aria to bicker as they broke the circle to speak in relative privacy. "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?"

"I know you consider me barely above a non-combatant. I'm just a lawyer, as far as you are concerned. But all joking I did earlier... I don't want to leave. I'm as much a military man as anyone here. Let me prove it."

"This isn't a flight mission, Lieutenant Rhab. It's ground combat." Marshall said.

"I'm aware. I have firearms and survival training too." Hermin countered. "Sir... I'm tired of being dismissed by the crew as some unnecessary tag-along to fill some sort of Citadel legal policy, although it _is _true that my presence is solely because Citadel Military Code 117, Article A, Subsection C states..." He cut himself off sharply, "I can be more than just a JAG. I... think I _need _to be more."

Marshall cut him off with a "Later" when he noticed the door to the circular building crack open. He then hushed Dani and Aria to cut the chatter as Skrana and Frawks emerged. Frawks didn't look happy, but was hiding it behind as much of an indifferent posture as he could.

"Spectre Brasser." Skrana declared with an even voice. "It has been decided that despite your intentions on this world, that it would be good for our relations with a greater galaxy to assist you. We have several agents on and near site that are ready and willing to assist your efforts to distract the Reaper forces while you find the artifact you are looking for."

"Skrana, I appreciate the offer, I can promise you the Reapers have far superior weapons and defenses than _anything _your people have. Your men and women would be slaughtered."

"We know, as do they." Frawks said grimly, the reasons for his displeasure now very clear, "But Skrana already asked them to volunteer, and they all did so readily. "We won't insist, as we know that you probably already resolved a plan of action, and likely don't want to change it."

"But we have sat back too long, and tried to wait out the storm." Skrana finished. "We know what our people did one hundred years ago, and it was wrong. This is an opportunity for us to demonstrate that the raloi are ready and willing to fight."

"Hell, about damn time." Aria snarked. "Let 'em load up and roll out."

"Too bad it's not your decision, isn't it?" Marshall snapped. "It's mine."

And it certainly wasn't an easy one.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note #2: It's decision time again, folks! Couple choices on your plate here.<em>

_1) Do you want to keep Hermin on the team?_

_2) Do you accept raloi support?_

_Review or PM with your thoughts!_


End file.
